


Voice of the Damned: Elements

by eyeofthebull



Series: Voice of the Damned Series [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Sex, Coming of Age, F/F, Femslash, Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 101,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeofthebull/pseuds/eyeofthebull
Summary: Mass Effect Trilogy - Prequel - Backstory for Femshep (Vanguard, Spacer, War Hero, Renegon)One does not simply become a hero without a trail of blood, sweat, and tears marking the path. Eris Shepard retells of the events that led to becoming an N7 which set her on the course to becoming savior of the galaxy.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prologue sets the stage for my headcanon epilogue post-ME3, and adds some context to the follow-up in the next chapter, but largely it is irrelevant until much later.
> 
> The rest is first-person POV. Since the video game series was from Shepard's perspective, I figured her story should be as well. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> **The Mass Effect universe belongs to BioWare/EA**

2278 – Port Hanshan – Noveria

A crisp but hazy night sky reflected the cool glow of city lights into her room, the walls were illuminated by the orange glow of her omni-tool, but it was the intermittent buzz of an awaiting message that had been drawing her from unconsciousness. Over the last 72 hours, Jani had been patiently awaiting a massive amount of encrypted data to be deciphered, and she had avoided sleep in anticipation of unlocking this key piece of time-sensitive-intelligence—but sleep had claimed her target in the early morning lull.

She jolted awake, unsure exactly how long the message had been alerting, and scoffed at herself for having dozed off. When she flipped her wrist, the glowing virtual-interface of her omni-tool revealed a smile that had pulled at the corners of her lips. She closed the message, pushed off the plush chair that had coerced her slumber, and dashed down the hallway to the bedroom where she grabbed her well-worn luggage bag. Jani never entirely unpacked anywhere she went, in her line of work she had to be ready to jump from one system to another within a moment’s notice—not that she minded, the fast-paced lifestyle was as rewarding as completing the objectives themselves.

With her belongings packed to the brim, she securely strapped the bag to her back and jogged down the stairs at the rear of the hotel building, to the helos port where her vehicle was docked. It was a small personal shuttle, and to the naked eye as well as most scanners, it seemed like a standard personal spacecraft, but it was outfitted with paramilitary tech that would be considered illegal by all intergalactic treaty standards. To Jani, cohesion with the law was of little concern, she was protected from most of the red tape due to her alliances with powerful dignitaries—these networking connections were a necessity of her job, and often mutually beneficial.

Her vehicle’s bioscanners initiated their protocols and upon completion, released the hatch allowing her to enter the vehicle. Out of habit, she tossed her bag to the side of the pilot’s seat and proceeded secure herself in for as she flipped the switches that allowed the Betty Blue hum to life. She interfaced with the helm’s navigation system by linking her omni-tool to upload the coordinates and permissions codes for her journey. She waited briefly in the queue for her pre-secured authorizations to be accepted by traffic control—it was never a long wait on Noveria, given their high flux of interstellar business travel, but on this occasion the queue seemed to be moving at a laggard pace, and she was eager to be on her way.

With clearance to depart, the ship’s pulse thrusters carried her into orbit, where she engaged the FTL drive and plotted the course toward the system’s relay. On her approach, she input commands that would propel her toward Rosetta Nebula, and hopefully the target that she had been tracking. The relay reacted with her signals as blue surges of energy swirled and engulfed her ship with the mass effect reaction reaching the terminal velocity, and with inconceivable force launched Jani toward her destination. ‘ _Relay jump successful. ETA 14 hours 31 minutes to the Tenebris Relay’_ spoke a crisp synthetic voice belonging to the ship’s AI over the comms.

Jani let a breathy sigh as she rested back in her seat “Thank you, Betty Blue,” she said softly, watching the stars blur past her, knowing that tomorrow she would be closer than she has ever been to unlocking the greatest mystery of her career, which until now had been eluding her at every corner.

Jani set out on uncovering this mystery 20 years ago, while serving as a Public Relations Liaison to the Asari Republics for the Asari Councilor, where she was privileged to policy-making and decisions of the highest authority on the Citadel. It was her first real job after college internships, and for the 70 year old asari, she was on target to have a promising career through this position’s connectivity to the powerful and distinguished. She was thankful that her mother’s political influence garnered this favor for her, but it was not without warrant, her ability to influence perspectives with information that would persuade others was a skill that had caught the attention of plenty powerful entities on Thessia and throughout the Republics.

Jani typically sat in on the meetings with Asari Republics representatives, especially those of Thessia since it reflected favorably upon Tevos to promote her relationships with the homeworld. When Tevos arrived, Matriarch Nirava initiated the meeting with customary greetings, then without provocation, her expression gave way to a scowling grimace, and she repugnantly uttered, “Directive...twenty-one…eighty-six”. Tevos’ indigo features paled and she simply nodded, then keyed some commands into her omni-tool, and joined with the matriarch in the oath-affirming Taserii Meld. Such a noble gesture was highly unusual for a business meeting, but especially with regard to the Councilor of the Asari. Among her people, she was heralded as their hero after the Reaper War, whom with the power of Athame, wielded Shepard as her sword and shield. As such, in the aftermath she no longer answered to the Conclave of Matriarchs, or any one entity for that matter.

Afterward, Tevos ordered that any record of the meeting was to be destroyed, and then she asked Jani to prepare a press release, with arrangement of personal condolences to the families of the Serrice Commando forces, who while on a patrol mission, their ship malfunctioned in the gravitational pull of a quasar, and all crew were presumed dead. It was not typical for a representative of Thessia to report to the Councilor on military affairs, and certainly not regarding common accidents. While reconstruction was an on-going process, likely to last hundreds more years, and the military played a large part in it, this was under the command of matriarchs, not the Councilor—she simply had nothing to do with such matters.

The meeting was brief yet its impact on Jani was so very profound. Things weren’t adding up, there was more to this story than meets the eye, and her curiosity was piqued, ‘ _There was no talk of a military operation, but maybe it was exchanged in the meld. Or maybe they are having an affair, and if so, that means that powerful interests were being consolidated between two asari—something almost forbidden in the aftermath of the war. But perhaps it’s something else, a concept more sinister. Whatever it was that Matriarch Nirava spoke of, it elicited a strong response from Tevos…could it have something to do with the Reapers?_ ’

Jani’s relationship with Tevos was a culturally routine asari/subordinate, and as such, Tevos was very helpful in providing guidance, wisdom, and she would often speak casually with Jani. The questions that she longed the answers for were off limits to her matriarchal superior, it would be very unbecoming for a maiden to ask such personal questions—especially where scandal was involved, given the implied disrespect to even suspect this of a superior. Jani resolved to research through all of the records she could access, from across every known Citadel race. For five years she investigated the Citadel’s archives, but there was no evidence to be found which would clarify any of her suspicions—though, common sense insisted that it was something from the Reaper War given the 2186 identifier.

Jani realized that the time had come for her to resign from her position, when she grew dissatisfied with the mundane keeping of appearances, with little substance for actual journalism. In her duties, she had gained insight into herself, and found that she preferred to discover the unseen and expose their truths, believing that the galaxy is only as safe as its worst kept secrets. The Citadel was not a safe place for someone who refused to play by conventional rules, even if the goal was to promote the greater good.

Tevos was understanding and supportive of her maiden protégé wanting the opportunity to follow her ambition and drive wherever it leads—an asari may take many paths to arrive at her destination, and may experience many motivations until she reaches the dawn of her next age—such were the siari teachings, which reminded all asari that it was necessary to move on at the natural end of an experience to gain the wisdom for her long-view.

Jani had made many powerful connections during her time on the Citadel, and among them was Matriarch Biriani, owner of several major media and information brokering organizations throughout Citadel space. Jani suspected that Tevos had pulled strings for Biriani to not only hire her, but to take her under her wing as a mentor, which was among the highest honors that a maiden can hope to establish with a matriarch in her career field. Her mentorship ensured that she would have the resources necessary to accomplish her ambitious goals. While the relationship between maiden and mentor was of course sexual, it was not a romantic-type—it just goes with the territory, sometimes seduction is necessary for survival. In fact, asari are naturally liberal with their bodies, and physical expression is merely an added benefit that most species do not understand, since mating is not _necessary_ for asari reproduction.

At her disposal were vast networks of information that she could not have authorization to access on the Citadel, and she used them to facilitate her investigations into nefarious people across the galaxy, gathering information ranging from the petty scandals of celebrities, to the lewd and corrupt actions of the most powerful business and political leaders. This side of business kept Biriani’s affiliates appeased that she was making herself useful, while expending company resources in pursuing her personal objectives.

Biriani could not shed any light into the matter that Jani was interested in, but her guidance was encouraging nonetheless, because to the older asari, the long view was more important than immediate gratification, something that often takes centuries for asari to fully understand. In the matriarch’s experience, when the powerful bend, there must be a large force behind it, and something of that magnitude has influence all around, but with seemingly invisible gravity. Only when one stops to observe that which cannot be seen, does it naturally reveal itself, because the questioner is no longer forcing something impossible, but rather sensing the reality that simply exists as it should. There was truth behind the wisdom, and what she found through investigating the deeds of those in power, there were small ancillary pieces of her puzzle, which served both the immediate need for information, as well as the long-view on her primary objective.

Information gathering was an innate skill to Jani, and over the years as the intel she had been acquiring began to form a clear picture, she saw trends that were all pointing in one direction. Large quantities of resources had been trafficking to and from an unknown system with the trails blocked by scrambled transmissions through black holes. All tech advancements, unsurprisingly, came from the dissection of Reaper tech, and that warranted tight scrutiny which required it to come through the Citadel, as per the post-war treaties—any black markets or undocumented tech manufacturing were inconspicuously handled with the utmost severity. Most concerting however, was that there had been galactic peace in spite of this arc of Citadel control, due to a shadow force that assassinated government leaders, corporate bosses, crime lords, and anyone who threatened to offset the balance of the galaxy—indeed, the very same individuals that she had been investigating and reporting on.

Ultimately she came to the conclusion that Directive 2186 had nothing to do with the asari, rather it came about through unknown but pivotal circumstances in the aftermath of the Reaper War. None of its details are recorded in any official capacity, but their implications exceed any regulation created by the Treaty of Galactic Amity in the aftermath. In fact, based on the information she gathered, it was a mandate that the highest levels of government kept hidden, abided by with utmost respect, and held onto with bitter resentment and fear. Jani came to determine, that resulting from Commander Shepard’s actions in the events that led up to the Reaper Invasion, the retribution for her victory in spite of impediment was the formation of an elite branch of Spectres, who wielded greater authority than The Council themselves. These were elusive operatives who did not function within the confines of any established norms or regulations, and if that was the case, she needed evidence...this would be the story that marked her career in journalism, or information brokering, whichever she chose.  

Getting caught trying to intercept concrete materials to expose this organization would mean her life, but that didn’t sway her determination to take on the risk, she was in too deep to turn back at any rate. Tracking things through The Citadel and scrambled signals was all but futile, and so her best hope for capturing evidence was through their agents. The assassins of those she had been investigating were always several steps ahead of her, and she never knew for certain when or for whom they would come, but there were patterns, and some actions always guaranteed an _untimely death_. For several years she tried to get closer to them, to figure out who might be their next target, and who was just a pawn in a greater scheme, but for all of her efforts, her hard work never paid off.

It wasn’t until luck turned in her favor that she was contacted by a source who led her to a businessman, who had been dealing in Reaper tech behind the scenes of a legitimate enterprise, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before they came for him—illegal technology was bulls-eye to the ‘guardians of the galaxy’. She arranged a meeting with the human businessman on Noveria, under the façade of writing an article on his recent success within the bioquantum market. Jani took some tracking spores from her pocket and blew them around his desk and his office. She had acquired from the black market, and intended to use them on a recently deceased political syndicate, who she was investigating for xenophobic political leanings, but never had the opportunity to use before their untimely demise. He looked like every other human to Jani, smarmy, arrogant, short-lived and short-sighted, and she conducted a superficial interview while her spores attached themselves to him and anyone who should come into contact with him over the next several days.

It didn’t take 12 hours for her to receive reports about being found lifeless in his apartment, having died unexpectedly of a likely heart attack. This was it, if they had come within range of him, then they were also exposed to her spores, and she would need to filter through the data and see where the spores had traveled. The tracking code for the nanoparticles was exceptionally difficult to interpret, given the number of them and the encryption level, this required specially designed deciphering equipment, and would require several days to provide a conclusive read-out for the feedback for the innumerable spores.

In the early morning, the buzz of her omni-tool awoke her to reveal that 99.996% of the spores were still on the surface of Noveria, but .004% had jumped the relay and were transmitting from within the Rosetta Nebula. That was her next destination, what awaited her there was no way of knowing, but her instinct and possibly a degree of wanting told her it held the answer she was looking for.

With her course charted, she didn’t know what to expect, but she was prepared to infiltrate the galaxy’s most elusive, advanced, and deadly system, if it in fact held what she believed.

Over the course of the flight, she reviewed all of the intelligence she had gathered over the years with her AI, to ensure she had not missed anything of key importance. Her dossier on Directive 2186 was a grim reminder of the force she was up against, tainted by the stories she heard about the Spectres before and during the Reaper War, but also based on personal experiences with them through her job with Counselor Tevos, she knew they were generally not the star-spangled heroes that Commander Shepard was, but rather they were ruthless and calculated murderers who would exterminate thousands without conscience, just to accomplish their objective. This prompted Jani to prepare a message to send to her mother, a farewell, just in case.

She equipped her Kepler light armor suit, reinforced with cutting-edge stealth enhancements such as: X-R-A corneal capture, Psy6 biotic weave, Gro-Ur homeostatic regeneration system, and Astral VX phantasm atomizing projector. _ETA 5 minutes to Tenebris Relay_ , the AI alerted Jani, a reminder to return to the helm, to ensure that upon approach the coordinates and settings were not awry, and to be prepared for any necessary manual inputs.

With a heavy sigh she clipped the weapons belt around her waist and buckled into position in the pilot’s seat, written upon her face were the expressions that revealed the anxious unyielding tightening in her chest that was dedicated to uncovering the truth.

Growing in the distance was the relay, and the impending fruits of her labor. The systems check for the reception codes lit up the display as her shuttle dropped out of warp-speed upon its arrival. This relay didn’t appear to be any different than any other she had encountered, the exception was that this relay had been completely unused by Citadel races given its remote location and lack of obtainable resources.

With manual controls activated, the AI plotted a course for Jani to Alpha Draconis to an Alliance/Asari-founded planet dubbed Aeia, which was deemed to be the most hospitable to organic life in this sector.

All stealth systems were engaged as she trail blazed through Rosetta Nebula. Her scanners had not picked up any indication that there were any Spectres in the vicinity, or for that matter, any other intelligent life. She hadn’t let her guard down, but at this point she was beginning to wonder if this would lead to yet another dead end.

Upon arrival into the Alpha Draconis system, her ship’s navigation system began to glitch, her ship’s power fluctuating, and her AI unresponsive. Either she had just flown through an electromagnetic field that was causing malfunctioning, or she just triggered a trap that the Spectres had set up to keep people out.

“Dammit…” she muttered, as she attempted to reengage the navigation system independently of the AI. To stay on course she switched the controls to auto, and knelt down to pry open the panel underneath the helm. Just as she revealed the inner workings of her ship, the lights went out and her ship immediately powered down, the only sounds she could hear in the pitch abyss were the air-flow regulator, which was now running on emergency backup, and her own racing heart. If this was a malfunction, it couldn’t have come at a worse time, but if it was something else...

Jani reached up to secure her helmet and engaged her suit’s defense system, preparing herself for the worst case scenario. Carefully, she flipped her wrist to activate her omni-tool in effort to communicate with the AI and the ship. A quick scan revealed that her ship’s disabling had been engineered rather than circumstantial, and further, that there was a program interfering with her ship’s functions.

 _‘A firewall…’_ she realized. The worst case had become her reality, and it was evident that she had gotten trapped in a security net. She looked around at her remaining options, her distress beacon was her only hope of getting rescued, but that would defeat the purpose of entering the system under stealth. Waiting for the Spectres to arrive was her only option if she was going to make her death worthwhile. She needed to ensure that everything she records is backed up on a network that cannot be deleted or tampered with.

On her omni-tool was a copy of Betty Blue, but to keep it running constantly would utilize the capacity of her omni-tool’s resources, and quite inconvenient as omni-tools have omnipotent uses, but it the only way to ensure that her death would have any meaning from this endeavor she had committed to. She modified the codes which previously uplinked to her bioscanners to transmit a farewell message to her mother upon her reading her death, allowing the AI to maintain constant connection with her private server all of her sensory readings and data feeds.

Just as she completed inputting the commands, she felt a buzzing in her ears, a burning behind her eyes, and her head began to feel heavy as if saturated in thick hot oil. She bent over in pain, both hands cradling her head… “What…what is this? Ahh!” she shrieked.

The searing pain was familiar, yet unlike anything she had ever experienced, at least not directly. A memory surfaced from a sharing-meld with an older asari in college who had fought on Thessia in the Reaper War, and immediately she realized exactly what was happening. “This is…indoctrination…oh no…NO…it…can’t…” she gasped, tears welling at the corners of her eyes, the pain intensified. The shock of her realization and the vice strangling her mind, was too much for the young asari, and a numbing darkness embraced her.

‘ _Ugh, my head…I…I am not dead…’_ she realized, regaining consciousness. Her senses were tuning in to her surroundings though apprehension and fear, and she slowly opened one eye to discover what hell she had gotten herself into. The lights were dim and she was lying on a military-style bunk in a grey room, ‘ _A prison?’_ she pondered. She listened for a moment, looking around, taking in her situation, and when she was satisfied that she was in the room alone, she pushed herself up on the bed. Her helmet and the plate weave of her armor provided resistance and she flipped down her visor to see the interface’s scan over her body. She saw that her weapons and equipment were still attached. ‘ _Reapers don’t care if you have your weapons…Reapers don’t let you keep your mind and body either though…what in the name of the Goddess is going on here?’_

She attempted to stand up, but a rush of pain to her head swiftly reminded her to slow down, whatever had happened aboard her ship was having lingering effects. She decided to do a brief meditation to regain her balance, and to establish mental clarity for reinforcement of her biotic barriers. No matter the leaps in technology, the mental fortitude of the asari was unmatched in terms of monitoring and focusing on the body once her meditation skills were mastered. She took off her helmet and assumed her meditation posture, and after a few moments of purposeful breathing techniques, she felt her body finding equilibrium between the physical pain and the introduction of relief.

A brief respite of mental clarity allowed her to detect the discrete scent of rainfall, and she pulled herself from the shallow meditation, ‘ _I’m planet-side? Did they take me onto Aeia?_ ’ She opened her eyes and pushed herself up once more, the pain from her headache ever-so subtle. On her approach toward the exit, she tested her omni-tool to check if Betty Blue was still running in order to engage override protocols, but to her surprise, the door hummed open immediately upon her activation of the motion sensors. Things were suspiciously too easy, but if her AI was still streaming data, she was determined to push her luck as far as it would go.

Jani peeked out of her room, no one seen, but the sounds of voices chatting on an open platform at the right-end of the hallway meant she was not as alone as she had hoped. She turned left, and followed the sterile corridor to the end where she came upon an open stairwell, and with her tactical cloaking activated, she descended down eight flights of stairs. When she emerged from the facility she found herself on the lower end of a hillside, her armor protecting her from the elements while she paused to take in the magnitude of this ‘Spectre facility’, the darkness and rain doing little to mask the size of the complex that was stretched out before her.

She heard the sound of boots clacking on the stairwell behind her, and took that as her cue to continue. Across from her was a transportation tram, so she slipped inside and initiated the ‘return’ sequence, not knowing where it would take her, but hopefully somewhere important enough to require a tram. The vehicle lifted off, and she watched as the city sprawled beyond the horizon, seeming more like an enterprise of innovation and technology, on par with that of any metropolis in the galaxy, than a top-secret military installation. ‘ _How could this possibly go unknown? Nothing like this has ever been reported from the Rosetta Nebula…is The Citadel behind all this?’_ she considered with disbelief.

When she realized that her destination, a towering skyscraper, was rapidly approaching, she ducked down behind a seat. Within moments, the tram came to a stop inside a docking station. Guards clad in heavy armor with matching weapons were patrolling the entryways, and even with the best stealth she could muster, she knew that it would be impossible to sneak past them without being detected by the tech that came standard with that kind of heavy armor.

She filled her lungs through her nose and accepted that she would be required to utilize her atomizing projector and pray to the Goddess that nothing goes wrong. Particalized movement is dangerous, even in controlled laboratories, but it was for moments like this that she had procured this highly illegal and experimental tech anyway.

She entered the commands through her suit’s port for the projector to initiate and begin scanning the environment for a destination to atomize. To ensure that she rematerialized in one piece, this required that her route must be without overt interference in order to prevent the obstruction of particles. Betty Blue’s scans revealed that there was an air ventilation shaft underneath the platform that led to access of an entire floor in the building which was devoid of life signatures. 

She reinitialized her cloaking system, which she knew could only deflect detection for a matter of seconds, and wisps of biotic energy swirled around her feet to quiet them as she crawled out the back of the vehicle in order to access the ventilation shaft. With the flick of her wrist, the projector’s homing beacon ejected to scout ahead, and upon arrival would give her the go-ahead to atomize.

The heavy steps of a guard moving across the platform told Jani that they were suspicious. She bit her lip, anxiously awaiting the signal from her beacon, holding her breath in anticipation, her stomach clenched, seconds feeling like minutes, finally the indicator on her omni-tool flashed with the notification to begin atomization.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she engaged the atomizing projector. A hot numbness flushed through her and before her sensory register could determine whether she was in pain or ecstasy, she rematerialized in the predetermined destination. Jani sunk to her knees and unknowable emotions flooded from her eyes, she wept, though it wasn’t for happiness or grief, rather from something deeper, she was alive and her body had just been torn apart by the atomic structure and put back together in the same exact condition.   

When she composed herself and brought her attention back to her reality, nothing could have prepared her for what she would see. Rather than revealing an office dedicated to a legion of covert operatives, laid out before her was evidence of the most legendary of them all, Shepard.

She found herself in a large room filled with memorabilia from the life of Commander Shepard, with photos, medals, model space ships, and unique artifacts lining the walls. The dark room was lit by the ethereal glow of a fish tank, and it illuminated a desk facing a massive window, overlooking the vast complex.

Jani rose to her feet, ignored the Commander Shepard shrine, and she rushed to the desk to plunder for anything that would explain the esoteric presence of this secret place in the reaches of the galaxy.

She took a seat in the desk’s executive chair, and when she did, a holographic AI appeared. “ _You are not authorized to access this console. How can I help you?”_ the coarse electronic voice asked.

Somewhat startled, but not panicking yet, Jani replied, “I need you to tell me what this place is?”

_The AI answered, “Your authorization credentials are prohibited from accessing that information. Please try another inquiry.”_

“What _can_ you share with me?” she growled, beginning to consider that she may need to hack the console through her own AI.

“ _This console has permissions to provide non-classified information to unauthorized users.”_ The AI explained.

Logic dictated that her presence wouldn’t go undetected much longer, and she needed to obtain any shred of evidence that she could find, “Very well, show me a list of entries which I may access.” she finally conceded.

The AI’s virtual interface revealed a long list of entries, mostly small files, but as she scrolled, one stood out, it was a massive file named ‘cdr-shp/final.hpi’. Her eyebrow arched, _‘Maybe this will explain the Shepard museum, and what the hell is going on here.’_ She selected the file, and the AI manifested a hologram of Commander Shepard, arms crossed and leaning against the wall beside her. Jani was stricken with Shepard’s god-like aura, even represented as an electronic copy, then Shepard began to speak.


	2. Introductions

I guess I’ll start at the very beginning. My name is Eris Jane Shepard, and I was born April 11, 2154 in the med bay aboard the SSV Curie. My mother, Admiral Hannah Shepard, named me Eris presumably because it is the planet she conceived me on while she was doing a tour of duty in the outer rim of the Sol system.

I had a father, obviously, since wasn’t cooked up in a lab—at least not originally. Though I never knew him as a child, for better or worse, I supposed he was also with the Alliance, or maybe he was working on the same station as my mother, either way it’s not important because you can’t miss what you never had. My mother told me once that she regretted not having a second parent around for me to learn from, but she explained that emotions were high, and everyone was just doing crazy things with the discovery of the Charon Relay…herself included.

Being raised a ‘Spacer’ meant that home was tagging along with my mother on Alliance space craft, orbital stations, or remote military posts on remote enterprising colonies, but never on Earth. There were too many new worlds to claim, interests to defend, and resources to discover for a naval officer with my mother’s skills to ever receive orders back to the Sol System.

In the early years of intergalactic space flight many military personnel and colonists were accidentally exposed to Element Zero dust or EEZO. It was first discovered by our species within a Prothean ruin on Mars in 2065, and was found to be the key in unlocking advanced space travel. Anyway, limited exposure usually yielded minimal side-effects, if any, but those who had more concentrated exposures sometimes developed EEZO poisoning, which always resulted in a slow and painful death. On the other hand, those who were not poisoned but had heavy exposure saw the EEZO manifest in other ways, such as their children being born with defects including: cancers, intellectual deficiencies, physical malformations, or on a very rare occasion, biotic nodules. To simplify it, biotic abilities can be utilized with techniques derived from the Element Zero nodes in the skin that produce micro mass effect—or dark energy—fields which allow the afflicted individual to manipulate the energy in any environment through a type of focused telekinesis.

As a result of my mother’s exposure to EEZO dust with inadequate protection while working on space-flight technology during the early years of Faster-Than-Light travel, I was among some of the first humans to be born with biotic abilities. I suppose being one of only a handful of human biotics at the time wasn’t all that bad, and for all intents and purposes it could have been much worse than it was. A lot of children back then who were subject to the unwanted side effects of EEZO exposure, underwent gruesome treatments and experiments. I assume my mother’s position with the Alliance Navy protected me from many of the terrible realities that biotic children faced back then, she knew exactly what she needed to protect me from, and she did her best to see it happen.

Anyway, humanity was stretching our legs with FTL travel, and my mother was on the front lines, paving out the frontier. She was a veteran of the First Contact War where she picked up her commission by taking out a Turian fighter with just small arms fire, while repairing the main cannon on the dreadnaught she was serving aboard. She was just as much a hero as anyone in that senseless xenophobic war, but nevermind my bias.

Humans as a race, are inherently suspicious of any differences, even among ourselves—though the Systems Alliance supposedly changed all that with the consolidation of power and military resources on a species-wide scale, but that is the precipice to our peaceful achievements given our long and bloody history of killing one another for usually petty reasons. This ‘Humanity First’ position was permanently solidified with the introduction of a formidable avian threat in the turians, which were not particularly fond of our differences either. I think it is because we’re so much alike in other respects, but I will get into that later on.

Being the representative multi-species amalgamation of galactic cooperation, The Citadel Council finally intervened by delivering a peace-treaty with Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy, in order to end the First Contact War, and welcome us to the interstellar community. Some would argue that their primary motivation for inviting us into their sphere of influence was for access to the technology in our Prothean archives on Mars, though most did not care about the true motive and monopolized on the conditions of joining Citadel space for shared technology, thus gaining advanced tech from other species that expanded human interests exponentially.

The galactic front eventually accepted that we were there to stay, though we didn’t make it easy for them despite the treaties and confederations made. In fact, there were some that resented the diplomatic agreements as opposed to all-out war—alien and human alike. In the Citadel’s efforts to include humans in galactic allegiance, they sent out representatives for many years, to assist with humanity incorporating Citadel doctrine, and to get acquainted with humanity as well.

As a result of The Citadel’s intervention, I met my first alien, and this individual ended up being one of the most influential people I ever encountered in my life.


	3. Biotics I

2167 Arcturus Stream/Euler/Benning/Camp Dolzer

I don’t remember much about my biotic powers prior to meeting her, who does remember much about early childhood, except vicariously through stories told by others. I was 12 or 13 years old, and we were stationed at an Alliance post on Benning in the Arcturus Stream, when we received a distinguished guest from the Asari Republics on behalf of the Citadel. The asari was omnipresent in that she had the entire base stepping up their performance to put on a show for The Citadel. It was suspected that the reason they sent a Commando was to gauge our military readiness to support and defend the interests of Citadel Space—essentially, the Alliance assumed it was political and treated it as such. 

It was a day like any other, and I was walking across the base with a couple of my friends, when I noticed the alien standing before a couple soldiers carrying on a conversation, with them locked at full attention. Her tendrils were long and sleek, her skin was dark blue with purple facial markings, she was about my mother’s height, her leather armor was colored black with inhuman energy, and her presence was larger than any admiral or general had met up until that point. Her name was Zephyra T’Erra, and she was an Asari Commando Huntress.

I was fascinated by this blue creature having such a powerful gravitas among hardened soldiers, and so I researched some extranet articles about the asari and discovered out some interesting facts that required further investigation on my part. For the next three months, I stalked the asari around the base, watching from a distance, hoping to discover any truth about what I had read.

As per my new routine, every day after school I followed her, although not actually close enough to know any of the intricacies of what she was discussing. I would climb up into the rafters of the warehouses and offices to follow from atop, as it gave me the best view to watch what she was up to.

One afternoon, curiosity unfortunately got the better of me, when my foot slipped on a loose beam and I couldn’t catch myself. Falling off of military equipment was something that I had become proficient at over the years, and in my experience I knew that I would crash onto some crates, get bruised up a little, and wound my pride, but in this case it also meant that my cover was blown.

I must’ve shouted as I fell, because suddenly I felt myself cradled by the blunted force of blue energy whirling around me. My first instinct was ‘ _Oh no, I’m screwed, I used my biotics and now everyone knows,’_ but I didn’t feel the familiar impulse quickening under my skin with biotic release, and I was somewhat confused, until I locked eyes with the asari. She was guiding my fall _with her own biotics,_ confirming that the asari were in fact wielders of biotic power, just as I had researched.

All of the Alliance personnel present locked their eyes on me as I slowly floated down to the ground, but I didn’t care, my resolve was cemented, ‘ _I have got to learn how to do that,’_ I thought. Immediately after she sat me down, I gave an embarrassed smirk and ran away before they could give me an ass chewing. In the back of my mind, I hoped none of them identified me, but I hadn’t taken into account that if they really wanted to know who I was, all they needed to do was review the security footage.

Her adept control at directing the energy from her biotics was exactly what I wanted to learn more about, but if I was going to figure it out and not get caught again, I would need to work on my stealth—something that has never really been my strong suit.  

I needed to let my trail go cold for a few days since they were alerted to my presence. Instead of following my routine, this particular evening I was killing time in my mother’s office after duty hours while she was working late, as usual.

The asari entered the room with subtlety and assuredness, and I knew immediately, _‘She has found me…”_ though my mother was far too distracted with work to notice her presence.

She leaned herself against a desk watching me, but I intentionally avoided eye contact as I played a game on my datapad. I was hoping she wouldn’t mention my activities, but mentally I was preparing for the punishment that was inevitable for my actions—I knew that I was to keep my distance from the brass and the dignitaries, and at my age it would come with a severe reprimand.

Eventually she spoke, “Lieutenant Commander Shepard, you have such a beautiful daughter, and I see that she shares your features.”

My breath caught in my chest as I looked back to my mother. I couldn’t believe that this biotic-blue creature knew her name, then it occurred to me, _‘of course she knows her, she knows everyone on this base by now.’_

My mother was startled a bit when she looked up from her screens, “Thank you, Zephyra. Was there something I could help you with?” she asked with a pleasant smile.

The asari crossed her hands in her lap “Perhaps you would be interested in conversation with me? It would give me much pleasure to learn more about you and your family. In fact, we asari find the sharing of dialogue one of the greatest rewards in the galaxy.”

My mother was never much for small talk, but a private discussion with a dignitary member of this advanced alien species was an opportunity that she was not willing to let pass, and I could see the gears turning in her mind. My mother didn’t have much to say about aliens except that we must learn to get along for the sake of our future, even if we don’t like it, and for me, my mother’s opinion carried more weight than anyone’s.

“That sounds delightful. I will be with you as soon as I finish this assignment.” Then she turned her eyes to me, “Eris, why don’t you show Zephyra the game you’re playing? I will only be just a moment.”

I felt my stomach tighten and I took a sharp breath, noticing that my mouth had become dry, and I was sure that this conversation would be about my recalcitrant behavior…not to mention that I had never spoken with an asari before, or any alien for that matter.

Of course I had been outfitted with translation aurals, as all humans of school-age are, so I understood her perfectly, but that wasn’t the issue. The asari had become the object of my fascination, not only was she a special-forces alien, which meant unknowable badassery, but she was also a biotic. If there was ever to be any such embodiment of everything I could hope to aspire to become, this was it, as I had never met any human who fit that description.

I carefully nodded and looked into the Commando’s piercing gaze, seemingly beckoning her to me, because she came closer and took a knee beside me. I vividly remember the unique aroma of spicy pepper, cinnamon, and charred wood—what I would later discover to be distinctive of pheromones produced by the asari when they have spent biotics or when their emotions are high.

With her so close I couldn’t help but to stare at the intricacies of the tentacles on her head, and my imagination took over as my mind began to picture them stretching out to choke an unsuspecting victim, but I shook my head at the mental image, and returned to the task that I was given, “Have you ever played Galaxy of Fantasy?” I asked, “It’s an MMORPG, I’m a level 60 Hanar battlemage and my team is about to infiltrate a dungeon at the Bog of Radical Despair. Check out this gun I got, it’s a legendary laser staff with an ammo mod and can do 9999 damage on most enemies.” I shot off quickly without taking a breath.

She smiled, “Indeed Eris, I am familiar with the adventure, and it would seem that you are quite the skilled gamer.” She raised a probing eyebrow, “If you don’t mind, tell me why you chose a battlemage rather than a warrior or an assassin instead?”

“It’s because the battlemage is just the best of both worlds! Warriors are boring, hitting things all the time, hit, hit, block, block, that’s it. Assassins just kind of hang back while everyone else gets in on the action, and it’s the same with regular mages.” I explained in the best rationale I could muster at 12-13 years old.

“With such rationale, I must agree with you. The battlemage is also my favorite class in Galaxy of Fantasy for the very same reasons.” She said, smiling as she reached out her hand for the customary human greeting to offer an introduction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Eris Shepard, I am Zephyra T’Erra, and I am looking forward to our interactions.” The asari spoke with soft intone, intentionally as one would with any child.

I had read on the extranet that the asari can read your thoughts just by touching you, and that was a little off-putting—but my mother had taught me good manners since meeting and greeting higher-ups in the Alliance was a relatively common occurrence, and refusing a handshake, especially with a dignitary, would be exceptionally rude, and would reflect poorly on myself as well as my mother.

I forced a half-smile through a nervous grimace as I extended my hand in meeting hers. Carefully, the large asari digits cupped around mine, and I could feel the Commando’s rough callouses on the ridges of her hand, but between them the softness of the asari’s palm was unlike human, much softer, like smooth suede.

I didn’t dare remove my hand after she grabbed it, and she must have been uncertain about the duration of a handshake with a human child, because she held my hand for an uncomfortably prolonged time.

Still cupping my hand, she closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them asked, “Are you familiar with my people?”

“Um, not really, Ma’am,” I replied.

“All asari have biotic potential, in fact, we consider it the ultimate blessing of the Goddess.” She said, her eyes penetrating as though she was looking into my soul.

Those words got my mother’s attention and she shot a hairy eyeball in our direction. She closed the holographic interface on her project, and immediately moved from her desk to sit across from me at the table.

The asari took the cue to release my hand and take a seat beside my mother. “It is remarkable that all asari are biotics and your people do not suffer any ill effects from it. We humans have only recently begun to become affected by EEZO, and so our biotics are quite rare. In fact, it is more common to hear about how EEZO has had negative impacts on our physiology.” My mother explained to the asari, confidently seizing the opportunity to share some interspecies information.

“It is an unfortunate consequence of the adaptation within one’s genome, but I am confident that your people will discover ways to improve these outcomes. From what I have witnessed, I believe your species have a formidable will, and possess a Matriarchal capacity for understanding and wisdom, emboldened with a talent for battle that could meet a most hardened Battlemaster” The asari replied, and reached into her satchel to find a bottle of brilliantly blue-liquid, for what I assumed was EEZO-fortified water made especially for asari warriors.  

“Thank you, I think your people are quite admirable as well. And yes, we are currently working diligently to enhance our understanding of bioEEZO.” She offered, pausing to pose a subtle suggestion, “As are most species of the galaxy, to my understanding?” My mother said without much elaboration, unwilling to share too much about any EEZO experiments she was privileged to.

I was in awe at the conversation taking place in front of me, I had never been privileged to anything like it up to this point. Biotics were something that was rarely discussed except to say the awful things that happened to infants born with cancers, tumors, and disfigurations, or to hear about children being sent off to the biotic camp out of fear of what they will do, or under the presumption that we’re saving them from themselves.

“Indeed, the unique implications of EEZO among species are a focused intergalactic effort, and I hope that the asari can assist humans in your journey of understanding. The asari have adapted to Element Zero exposure since the dawn of our people, which is the natural foundation for which each and every asari possess some biotic talent. In fact, asari children are taught how to gain mastery of their biotics from birth. However, some philosophers would argue that biotic training occurs prior to birth, through in-utero ‘melding’ of nervous systems between a fetus and her mother.” She smiled broadly with pride beaming, “Biotics are as natural to the asari as our Le’ku tendrils and the blueness of our skin.”  

The asari hesitated, but her disposition remained unchanged as she looked to me, “To have been blessed with this gift as a human is quite extraordinary”

My heart dropped into my stomach and my breath caught in my throat, _she knows_. My muscles tensed and I looked to my mother who became defensive in response to the direction of this conversation and she directed a concerned glance to me. She crossed her arms, “Our people are still quite new to biotics, Zephyra. Never in our history have we contended with such profound evolutionary mutations so rapidly, and the options we currently have at our disposal would not benefit my daughter.” My mother explained curtly.

“I meant no offense Lieutenant Commander. Though I hope that you see there is a great reward in learning how to manipulate the gifts we are born with, in order to reach one’s potential for satisfaction in life. Surely you have done this yourself in becoming a skilled technician.” The asari injected, sensing that my mother had strong feelings attached to my condition.

She let a sigh and looked at me with dejected compassion—she had feared this day would come, and now it has, because of my inquisition to stalk an Asari Commando.

Her brow furrowed when she looked back to the asari “What interest do you have in my daughter’s biotics? I refuse to allow my daughter to become some experiment. Not for the Alliance, not for human interests, and especially not for some alien medusas from the other side of the galaxy!” My mother demanded, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and rage—she did not want to damage relations with the asari, but she was always very defensive when it came to protecting me.

The asari seemed wounded by the verbal lashing, and her friendly disposition turned quite stoic. She placed a hand upon my mother’s knee and said, “Forgive me for causing you such pain with this discussion. I only meant to offer my support and understanding for your situation.” She looked into my mother’s eyes without faltering, “I have no intention to ‘experiment’ on your daughter nor to allow anyone else. I merely sensed the undercurrent of her biotics when our hands touched. I assure you, it is natural to the asari, and I am keenly aware of the subtle biotic energy transmitted through touch.”

She shifted in her seat, her posture emitted confidence and dignity as she continued, “As you are aware, I am here on behalf of The Citadel Council as well as the Asari Republics to offer my assistance for your Alliance in adapting to your new circumstances, and aid in adjusting to working together with our people. The asari are the only naturally biotic species, as well as being the oldest members of the galactic council. We were the first to have discovered The Citadel left behind by the Protheans, and we have witnessed the emergence of all other advanced species, and have gone to great lengths in assisting them by ensuring peace and promoting the integration of shared intelligence for galactic prosperity and harmony. I assure you Lieutenant Commander Shepard, I have no ulterior motives for meeting with you and your daughter.”

My mother’s expression softened and she took a deep breath before relinquishing an affirmatory nod. She probably realized that she may have been overly defensive about the asari’s comments regarding my biotics, but she had always been very adamant about keeping me safe from those who would seek to use my biotics for personal gain.

Before she could reply, the asari went further, “As a representative of the asari, I believe that it would be within the scope of my assignment to ensure that a young human biotic receive training under my expertise. This is given special consideration due to the fact that the only other options are: that she does not receive formal training, or is forced to undergo primitive biotic experimentation by her own species.”

“Look, I apologize for my emotional response, but Systems Alliance is clear about their apprehensiveness with human biotics; which is why they are condoning and supporting the unethical special interest experimentations with biotic children.” She sighed, “I have been able to keep her safe knowing that her biotics would not pose a threat because she would never learn to use them. You can’t possibly expect me to expose my daughter to the fallout that would follow the Alliance’s discovery of her abilities.” My mother explained dispassionately, knowing that damage control is the only option on the table, since Zephyra would likely report me and unleash hell on our family.

I can’t remember a time that I didn’t know of my biotics, but I was always forbidden from experimentation, and I was severely reprimanded or punished for using them. I always understood the repercussions and the risk that exposing them to others would have, she did not hide these realities from me even as a small child… She could keep me safe with her impeccable reputation, but I had to be responsible for my own actions as it was of the utmost importance.

“I understand your apprehension Lieutenant Commander, and respectfully, I want you to know that I have been briefed thoroughly on the Systems Alliance dispositions with biotic children.” She reassured, “I stand prepared to use my diplomatic powers to take every necessary precaution, with the utmost discretion, to ensure that your daughter is trained with the highest caliber of proficiency and skill. On my honor as an Asari Commando Huntress, she will learn to control her biotics, as they may very well save her life one day.” The asari explained confidently and full of compassion.

My mother contemplated for a moment, and with a furrowed brow she sighed, “Zephyra, I do not know what the future may hold for my daughter, but I won’t put her in a position that her biotics—something that I cursed her with—puts her in danger…and that is exactly what will happen if she is caught. I’m not certain even your diplomatic considerations cannot shield her from the consequences.”

The asari did not speak, instead taking the time to observe the emotions laden on my mother’s face, sensing the unspoken exchange between mother and daughter of a species that she had limited experience in understanding, but still willing to take a risk with through her involvement.

My mother was silent, her lips pursed and eyes staring into the distance; I knew this expression, though I had only seen it a few times, it gave me chills. Admittedly, I had mixed feelings, while I was in utter amazement with what was happening in front of me and the offer of biotic training, I was also becoming angry, albeit scared, at what was unfolding with the prospects threatening to take me from my mother. 

I could see that she resigned the thought when she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath and when she opened them her focus was set upon me. With anguished defeat emblazoned upon her face, she reached over to me and clasped my hand in both of hers, “Eris, I’ve noticed that you have been experimenting with your biotics lately, and I remind you that it is dangerous, that you should not do it, and I remind you why…. Nevertheless, I suppose this was inevitable.” She paused and looked squarely into my eyes, “A part of me…I…I feel so guilty asking you to deny such an intimate part of yourself. It is what you are, and maybe I can’t save you from that…maybe it’s wrong to even try. I just don’t have the answers, nothing prepares a mother for this, only instinct, by doing whatever is necessary to protect my flesh and blood.”

Her deep blue eyes were bloodshot as tears welled, she took a ragged breath to stifle them back as she turned back to the asari, “You know the grave consequences of what you are asking me to do… But what do you even know about humans, let alone of our biotic children? For that matter, as a military officer I must also be suspicious—how can I be certain that you will not be studying my daughter to aid your people in using this against us one day?” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

The asari smiled and nodded, shifting slightly in her seat to engage the delicate subject, “I do understand Lieutenant Commander, and your concerns are quite valid. Please allow me to explain. In my travels and assignments, I have trained with other species in honing their biotic skills, some of which were children. I assure you, there are none better than the asari to help developing species with biotics” She explained without missing a beat, “For the last three millennia, since the asari first set foot off of our home world, our people have always encouraged other species to expand their talents to promote galactic unity and prosperity, and where biotics have been concerned we have uplifted them. You see, enlightenment is central to our Siari belief systems—we are all connected, every living creature, united in a glorious existence.” The blue warrior explained diplomatically, certain that neither of us knew much about her people nor their history. “I know a great deal about humans, it was necessary for this assignment, as I’m sure you’re aware the Citadel maintains an archive on each species within their sphere influence. I have also learned about you from my own observations, and I am quite impressed. But as for the matter at hand, it is quite likely with her recent experimentation—as is only natural with children learning their bodies and testing their reality—regardless of your intentions, and without proper training she will be limited to unstable control over her biotics. As a result of this, it is probable that she may injure herself or others, unless she learns how to properly manipulate and control them.” 

The asari’s proposition made sense, and my mother knew that this visitor had been heavily vetted prior to being accepted for this assignment by the Alliance. I imagine that she was just scared, and it was a lot to process. Even at 12 years old, I could see that she was having an internal dilemma, but I couldn’t decide from the look on her face whether she was upset with me for getting caught with biotics or if she was wishing that I could have just been a normal kid…it was probably both.

When she finally spoke, she shifted her torso and leaned forward to completely face the asari, “Explain to me what you’re offering.”

“I am offering to train your daughter in secrecy to become proficient in the art of honing biotic abilities. She will learn to control emotionally derived flares and focus them. She will gain mastery concentration, how to manipulate her energy to create barriers, to defend herself with warps, throws, lifts, singularities, and techniques of that sort. Most importantly, she will obtain understanding about how biotics enhance everyday activities and learn to use them discretely with precision, and how to avoid alerting others to the presence of her biotics, unless she chooses to expose herself.” The asari explained without going into the ins and outs of what the training will be like.

My mother looked pensive, her brow furrowed, and before she could speak the asari added “Also Lieutenant Commander, in assisting your daughter, I will be better equipped to offer my recommendations to your Alliance in implementing better strategies that train human biotics, and hopefully offer alternatives to their currently barbaric methods of preparing them. Shepard, your daughter will have the opportunity to help me understand and assist your entire species, and in return I will ensure that she is prepared to face any obstacle that life throws at her.”

Hannah Shepard was one of the best engineers in all of the Alliance, but her analytical talents extended beyond the job and into everything she does, and so once she processed the information she was presented, she knew that it came down to leaving it to fate or worse being shipped to the Biotic Acclimation and Training centers, or being trained by the asari.

The choice was clear and it was the best she could hope for me—there were no better biotics in the galaxy than the Asari Commandos. She straightened her back and was prepared to give the asari an answer when she looked out the corner of her eye and noticed me sitting there watching their exchange with my mouth agape and nervous puzzlement written upon my face, feeling utterly speechless at this transaction in front of me and the potential for outcomes.

She turned to me, “Eris dear, tell me, what you want? I know that you are young, and this is a very big decision, but your biotics do not belong to me, they are yours. I will protect you from anything that I can, but I must know before I commit to this, do you wish to train your biotics? You heard what Zephyra is offering, and it is an incredible opportunity, but the risks of being discovered are dire…it is difficult for me to contemplate how terrible that could turn for us, and worst of all, for you.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head before continuing, “This is your decision, I cannot make it for you. I only want what is best for you.”

My jaw dropped a little when my mother asked me that, she wanted _me_ to make a decision that would have rippling effects. Up until then, the extent of understanding my biotics was how to bend something, pull small things across a table, amplify throwing a rock, a baseball, or something like that, and one time I accidentally flared to catch myself when I fell from a spacecraft engine that I was playing on in the hangar. I had always been experimental through curiosity with my biotics, even if I had to hide it—this was why I was following her around in the first place.

Now, here I sat with a biotics expert offering to take me under her wing and train me in the mystical arts of manipulating dark energy, all in secret, without any of the poking and prodding of scientists. Just imagining working with anyone from Special Forces was beyond my wildest dreams, and refusing this offer was not something I could reconcile. As an Asari Commando Huntress, she could have trained entire battalions by herself—looking back, it was such a waste of her talent to focus solely on a child, but at 12 years old, that thought never crossed my mind, I just knew the mastery of my forbidden natural talents was something that I desperately wanted.

Both sets of eyes on me, patiently awaiting my answer. Nervously I nodded, with my chin parallel to the floor, staring ahead to avoid eye-contact and having to see the expression on my mother’s face, for fear that I had immeasurably disappointed her.

“Very well then, it’s settled.” My mother spoke astutely, reaching her hand across the table to stroke my arm. “I will make the arrangements for you two to be able to work in secrecy. I know this base well enough to have a good idea about where you’ll be able to train safely without raising any questions. But know this, just so I am clear, I will also be observing what you are doing with my daughter.”

“Of course Lieutenant Commander, and I strongly encourage your participation in Eris’ development, so that you understand and my assist her in what she will be experiencing. In my culture, an asari will train her biotics for several decades in school, and also with her family and friends, sometimes even under special instruction before she is considered competent, and afterward, mastery requires a minimum of a century of refinement to be considered proficient enough to audition for the privilege of becoming a Commando. While your species’ lifespan prevents this time-commitment to biotic training, a benefit is that humans develop at a much faster rate than asari, but this is due to asari’s rapid cellular regeneration and growth.” The Commando explained, and then activated her omni-tool, “Here, I have sent you the frequency codes that link you with my secure communication portal, the Alliance does not monitor this diplomatic channel, and it is encrypted anyway, so we will be able to maintain contact without alerting anyone to our activities.”

My mother activated her omni-tool to receive the information, and she sighed deeply. I assume she felt a great deal of guilt for going around the Alliance in order to allow me to be trained by the asari. Ensuring my future must have weighed heavily on her to be willing to do such a thing, but none of us had any idea just how profoundly that training would prepare me for what I would face in the coming years.

 


	4. Biotics II

2167 – Arcturus Stream/Euler/Benning/Camp Dolzer

A week later I began my training, and with this new phase of my life came a price. I made the decision to forsake the naïve girl named Eris, and transform into becoming the woman known as Shepard—which to this day seems more natural than my given name. 

Zephyra instructed me to address her as _Erasansi,_ a title granted to her by the High Order of Asari Commandos and only utilized in a biotics training setting. Erasansi roughly translates to ‘master instructor of technique’ or Drill Instructor by military standards.  

I trained with my Erasansi every evening after school, and all day on weekends. Needless to say, playing with friends was not an option, but I didn’t mind, I grew to be very comfortable with the structured environment the Erasansi provided, and she kept my mind occupied with concentration activities, obstacle courses, endurance training, and occasionally she would engage me with an asari’s melding deep-mind game that strengthened my mental fortitude.

Focusing my mind on training my body was probably the most difficult thing to learn, and it was very exhausting, both physically and mentally. As a result of this biotic use, I discovered that my caloric intake increased as well to compensate for the spent energy. My Erasansi provided for this reality with her fortified-nutrition bars, a ration she was specifically provided from the Alliance, since asari spend more energy than humans in their homeostasis.

I was far better at telekinesis and spatial distortion than envelopment, and so my barriers did not last very long, much to my Erasansi’s disappointment. She insisted that the barrier was the most important skill for a biotic, claiming that it would save my life whether I was running from danger or fighting back, or in some circumstances providing protection for others, and therefore necessitated its perfection.

She taught me the asari’s art of meditation, which was not much unlike human meditation. The purpose of it was to train my mind on focusing biotics that enhance a higher level of connection with physics simultaneously disconnecting from the physical existence I knew—like everything else it was not an easy task. She even went so far as to research Far East human religious practices to assist me—apparently meditation was something that the asari teach their children from infancy, in order team them control over their emotions, thoughts, and biotics. I believe she had some difficulty separating her expectations from that of an asari child to me, a human child. Perhaps this was due to some of our physical similarities, at any rate, she maintained great patience with me, and if she was ever frustrated she never showed it. Through a logical lens of analysis, she would simply review our progress with me, and move to another technique if one did not seem to improve my performance sufficiently. She indicated more than once that she lamented that she did not meet me when I was younger, because of my age she had to teach me to break bad habits and replace them with biotic temperance.

I was a quick learn though—when she said jump I asked how high, and with great enthusiasm. I guess my military upbringing made it natural for me act out orders.

It was all very messy in the beginning, learning how to control my biotics with the physical mnemonics was a lot like figuring out how to control the very essence of life itself—a difficult task for an adolescent, mind you. Gradually though, I was able to gain enough mastery to do all sorts of little biotic tricks right in front of my mother without notice, things like pulling her coffee a couple inches from where she sat it down while she was reading a datapad.

Fine tuning of the biotics was a matter of practice after the basics were learned, for example, to throw a singularity first I had to imagine it, then arouse the biotics by drawing the energy from quadrants of my body and bringing it together by forcing it to one point. The technique I first learned to do this was by making a triangle with my hands at center mass, and when I felt the pressure build to the point the spinning was making me dizzy, I pushed it through my arms with my fingers drawn and directed it at a target. As I grew stronger, we had made a disaster of the warehouse my mother had arranged for us to train in.

We had been working together for about 4 years when my mother received orders that the Alliance was assigning the 4th Engineering Flotilla in the Attican Traverse, to provide a military presence in the systems while colonies and other human interests were being established. It was time for ship duty again, and honestly I was surprised that we were stationed at a post as long as we were.

I figured my Erasansi would likely be transferring with us, since she was an attachment to my mother’s unit. In response to the receipt of these orders, she decided to take my training up a notch, and with our departure rapidly approaching, she prepared a ‘field operation’ to test my abilities.

One day after school, we jogged roughly 4 kilometers until we reached a clearing deep within a rocky ravine. “Shepard, you have come a long way from the nervous little biotic child that I met only a short time ago. Don’t mistake my observation for an indication that you’ve become adept, but you are growing stronger each day.” She stepped ahead of me to an area where several stones were piled neatly according to size, “I want to test your skills, and in order to do that we needed a little more freedom from the confines of the Alliance base. You will probably be injured if you do not use all of the skills that you have been practicing, so don’t hold back. Our jog should have gotten your body warmed up. Take a moment to prepare yourself, then we will begin.”

My heart jumped in my chest, she was multitudes more powerful with her biotics, and she wanted to test me…with the risk of injury. I couldn’t believe it, I gasped a little, and having grown acutely aware of my body language over the years she noticed, and her eyes gave a smile that she hid behind her war face. I nodded to her in realizing that this was the real thing, and I closed my eyes to briefly meditate, mentally reviewing my biotic skills and what was required of them.

After several minutes had passed, the asari Erasansi must have realized that I was intentionally stalling the exercise, because she threw a stone in my direction to get my attention. When I opened my eyes, I saw her standing atop a large boulder, enveloped in the glow of biotics swirling and dancing around her.

I stood to my feet and released a short biotic flare of my own in return, letting her know that I was ready. In response, she released some of her energy to raise a stone, and waved her hand to cast it in my direction. ‘ _What does she want? Am I supposed to catch it and throw it back?’_ I wasn’t sure, so I just went with it, I released a micro singularity to catch the stone to launch it back in her direction with a throw. We volleyed back and forth like that with several small stones, and when I got comfortable with that exercise she introduced another challenge, with her biotics she picked up larger stone and launched it at me from the flank. My reflexes told me that I needed to duck, but she wanted to see my biotics, so I quickly went with my first thought and cast another throw from my right hand while throwing back the small stones with the left. My throw did not have enough energy behind it to stop the stone from coming at me, so I tried again, this time with both hands and I hurled a throw, casting the stone aside. Having focused on the large stone, I had lost concentration on the barrage of small stones that were being volleyed, and three of them hit me in the stomach before I put up my barrier to prevent the others from inflicting further damage.

I grunted at the impact of the small stones, knowing they would probably leave a bruise. My Erasansi shouted “You forgot your basics, Shepard, always keep up your barriers, especially when there’s a chance you could get injured! Get yourself together and we will continue.”

Through gritted teeth, embarrassed and disappointed in myself that I had forgotten the first rule, I snarled and flared to my Erasansi that I was ready. She gave a sinister smile before beginning the next barrage of testing.

She started with the volley of small stones at first, and I threw them back, just as with the first exercise, then when she prepared to flank with the larger stone, I knew my barriers were already up so I wouldn’t be hurt by focusing my throw into the larger one, but if I let the small stones hit my barrier I the volley would be disrupted, so I set a 3 second singularity in the direction of the small stones to keep them airborne while I threw the larger stone back to the side, then turned back to my singularity and one at a time threw the small stones back to the Erasansi. We did that a couple times before she introduced something unexpected, I heard a rumble and noticed a large boulder rolling in my direction, shrouded by blue biotics.

“Shit!” I muttered to myself and I renewed my barrier, preemptively I began charging my singularity to protect myself from the barrage of small stones, and to give myself the opportunity to figure out how to manage this obstacle. Should I try to warp it, to break it into smaller, more manageable pieces? It was hard enough throwing a large stone, so I knew I couldn’t lift it away. I was getting frustrated, this was above my skill level and she knew it. The boulder was rapidly approaching and so were the smaller stones. Without a plan I began to run, still throwing the stones back to the Erasansi, I was evading the rolling boulder.

I found a protruding rock and saw it as an opportunity to climb out of the way, but the boulder picked up the pace, my Erasansi discovering my plan and clearly wanting me to address the boulder. Despite her wishes, I knew my skills were too low to manage the boulder, so I ignored the pummeling small stones and directed my biotics to running as fast as I could, allowing the small ones to bounce off my barrier. I dropped a singularity behind me in hopes of slowing the boulder down so that I could get out of the way, but it did little if anything. My lungs began to burn, and I couldn’t figure out how she me to stop this boulder, I was beginning to accept that it was definitely going to roll me down.

I was about 100 meters away from the protruding rock in the canyon wall, when I saw some loosely scattered large stones my Erasansi had gathered for this exercise. I knew I only had one shot to get this right, and I had let my barrier fall, so I had to put it back up and position myself in order to pull off this combo. I sprinted across to the other side of the canyon running between two ore protrusions, which the Erasansi would have to direct her boulder around to catch up to me, giving me enough time to recharge my barrier and get a clear shot of the large stones. With full concentration of my biotics I lifted them and threw them one at a time back at the boulder. Each impact slowed the pace of the boulder and forced the Erasansi to roll around the fallen stone. I was nearly out of stones when I finally reached the protrusion and leaped to grab ahold of it, pulling myself up and securing my position out of the reach of the boulder.

Panting, and feeling quite proud of my clever escape I looked to my Erasansi Her face was expressionless, but I heard beneath me that the boulder was still rolling, meaning I had still not completed the task. I felt my stomach tighten, and my nostrils flared “What does she want from me!?” I said to myself, but not loud enough for her to hear me.

I looked around to see what I could use against the obstacle, knowing that my biotics alone would not be sufficient to damage the boulder, and the large stones did very little to even slow it down. While I was regrouping I noticed that she had restarted the small stone volley, and so I threw them back with great frustration, because now I was distracted from finding a solution. We did that for a few moments when it occurred to me that in order to even get down from this position I would have to deal with the boulder. Suddenly, I had an idea, I had learned about biotic explosions resulting from combos, but I was forbidden from practicing them due to the secrecy of our training.

I figured I’m either going to fail this test or I’m going to kick its ass, I may as well give it all I’ve got. I took a deep breath, reinforced my barrier, put up a singularity to catch the small stones, then as I charged up a warp I also focused my biotics into my legs prepared to jump away from the explosion. When I felt that my warp was as strong as I could make it, I gritted my teeth and leaped out, turning back to hurl my warp into the singularity. It was like slow motion watching the blue energy charges implode, releasing a biotic shockwave in a radius that shook the protruding rock loose, crashing on top of my MI’s boulder encasing it in rubble.

I didn’t think to flare up my biotics to ease my fall, too preoccupied in watching the explosion that I had created, and so my ass slammed into the ground behind me. I immediately looked up to see if my Erasansi had begun to launch another volley of small stones to me, and when I realized she was walking toward me I let out a sigh of relief and my head fell back.

“Good job Shepard. You handled that quite well, though, if it were an actual fire fight, you’d be dead. I’m impressed that you thought back to your training with that detonation. You had me worried that my boulder had gotten the better of you.” The Erasansi said, hovering over my exhausted body. She extended her hand to pull me to my feet, and I reached out in acceptance.

“Thank you, Erasansi. I’m pretty sure I will have a bruise or two from when you caught me with my barrier down.” I told her, feeling my abs tighten just thinking about it.

“Yes, well next time you will remember.” The asari wryly smiled.

My Erasansi took a seat on a boulder behind us, and glanced down to the spot beside her, indicating that I join her, so I did.

“Shepard, as you know, with the transfer orders from the 9Fourth, it is likely that you will be stationed aboard a space vehicle, and there you will no longer be able to train as we have over these years. This is unfortunate because there is still much that you have yet to learn. You have such potential to harness in refining your biotics into a force the galaxy would tremble at.” She said with some melancholy.

“I’m sure we can figure out something, Erasansi?” I asked, assuming that because she was attached to the same unit that she would go with us.

“No Shepard, regrettably, my short tour of duty with the Alliance is also coming to an end. It is time for me to complete my reports and return to my people for another assignment.” She paused for a moment and looked me squarely in the eyes, “Shepard, you must remain mindful that you are still vulnerable to the Alliance becoming aware of your biotics and unleashing horrors upon you. You have a strength within you, I recognize this spirit because it is the warrior’s essence, I walk this path myself, and it will drive you to meet challenges and triumph over great odds. Over these next few years until you come of age, be careful with your biotics and your meditations, save these years of training for when you can make a life of your own choosing. I believe that is year 18 among humans.”

I nodded, feeling a heaviness smothering my heart. If the fact that I couldn’t practice my biotics any longer wasn’t bad enough, I was having to say goodbye to my mentor, my trainer, and the most stable and constant person I’d had in my life besides my mother. I felt my face growing flushed, tears welling in my eyes, but I held them back, my Erasansi always harshly reprimanded me when I let my feelings get the better of me, it was contradictory to being an adept biotic—if I couldn’t even govern my emotions, I could never hope to control my biotics.

“Don’t fret Shepard, it has brought me great joy supervising your growth and development, and you are destined for great things, I’m certain of it. Bide your time, and enjoy these maiden years with your peers.” The asari said consolingly, taking my hand she hesitated before continuing, “Shepard, if you’re interested, I would like to give you something. As you’re aware, when I join my mind with yours, we share a level of consciousness that enables me to guide you in training your mind to focus on your biotics.”

I nodded, knowing that often times her guidance was the only thing that helped any of this make sense to me.

“The _eva-visria_ is a sharing of memories, and traditionally asari practice this as a farewell gesture to those they care about. Shepard, instead of focusing on your mind and body for the biotics, I will open my own mind to show you an experience from my memory. I want you to see my home world and feel the warmth of her beauty that marks my heart.” She paused for a moment, “Will you accept?”

The asari mind meld never made much sense to me, as it was a completely foreign concept to humans, and I didn’t really know the depth of it except for the condensed summary my Erasansi had told me in order to help me understand the means through which she was giving me guidance. Through the melds, she was very directive, and never transmitted anything personal from her mind aside from exemplary instruction. I wasn’t scared of the process, I had grown used to the weirdness of having my nervous system invaded by the gentle presence of the otherwise stern Commando, and it would have been greatly insulting to decline her gesture.

“Yes, Erasansi. I would be honored.” I said, softly.

She smiled and sat down on the ground in her meditation posture, and I joined her, as I had done hundreds of times. “Shepard, this will be vastly different, but try to focus. Embrace eternity.” she said, as her consciousness connected with mine.

I felt her familiar presence joining with my own and the confidence that she emitted while navigating my mind. Even though she told me to prepare for something unfamiliar, I was only used to allowing her to access my own mind and my biotics, so I didn’t know how to be ready for anything else. My mind went forward into the opening that she created for me, and I felt her sensations, sitting there in front of me, and her feelings for the me as her protégé while she prepared to disclose her intention. It was more than a memory, it was a full-body experience, like stepping into someone else’s mind, body, and soul, to relive the past and share the present in a reciprocal folding of time itself. I smelled the memory of the fragrant Thessian breeze and felt how it filled her lungs. I could see the crimson sky of an evening sunset and feel the rays of the sun cast upon her skin. I even felt the emotions that spread from her heart of being in her home. Suddenly, I found something that I recognized in her feelings and memories, that she was also raised in space, just as I was, and I am sharing her memory of her first experience on her home world. Then I felt a longing to see Earth, my own home world that I had never seen. She sensed this through the meld and offered feelings of empathy and compassion _Your day will come, young one, and it will be just as incredible for you as it was for me. It has been a privilege to have spent this time with you_ , _and I will think of you. You are my mea’re, a sister of my tribe. May the Goddess guide you, and grant you wisdom._ She broadcast telepathically through the strangest sensation I can best describe, I could feel the words before she even spoke them and I felt a pang in my heart, because I was already missing her. 

With that she slowly disconnected the meld and stood up. I was still sitting there, completely overwhelmed by the experience and still reeling myself in from the intensity, when she reached her hand down to me once again to help me up. I looked up to her, knowing for sure this would be the last time I would ever see her, tears welled in my eyes and I took a deep breath, placing my hand in hers and allowing her to help me back to my feet.

“Come along Shepard. I am certain your mother anxiously awaits to hear about your biotics test.” My Erasansi said with a smile, as she began to take off in a jog back to the base. I followed behind watching her move with powerful grace, admiring the essence of her battle prowess and strength of character. I was thankful that she saw the potential in me.  

**  
**


	5. Spacer I

2170 – Attican Traverse/SSV Einstein

My asari biotics instructor had departed about a week ahead of us, having finished her assignment and reported back to the Commandos. We had two weeks of leave to enjoy before my mother was to report to the SSV Einstein.

After formally stepping down from her position as my Erasansi, Zephyra T’Erra invited us to visit her at an apartment she owns in a colony called Nos Astra on a highly developed and enterprising asari colony, on planet Illium in the Crescent Nebula.

I think I was more excited about it than my mother, mostly since it was probably her first time visiting an alien colony without the pretext of a military assignment. And as for me, having grown so close to Zephyra over the years, I was very interested to see what the asari culture looked like up close and personal.

The saturating humid air was shocking to my skin, but it was a pleasant contrast to the chilly but arid atmosphere of Benning. We met up with my former instructor at the dock, and she was no longer wearing her Commando leathers, rather instead, she stood elegantly in a silver form-fitting gown. To me that was somewhat off-putting, but it appeared to be customary, because here, all of the asari dressed in some variation of them.

She escorted us around the colony, going to museums, shopping centers, restaurants, and to watch a game called Skyball. My mind was blown at the discovery of a sport that required biotics, and for that matter, did I forget to mention, biotics was everywhere!

The asaris used biotics so freely, it seemed natural as breathing to them, and so I felt compelled to do the same—as us humans say ‘when in Rome’. So, one evening we were walking back to the hotel, we came upon a long set of stairs, but rather than walk down, instead, I jumped from the ledge and flared my biotics to catch my fall.

My mother grabbed me by the ear and hissed, “What are you thinking!? Just because we aren’t surrounded by the Alliance doesn’t mean you can act foolish. Look at this place Eris, someone might figure out who we are, and decide to make a profit on that information. Do you have any idea how close we are to the Terminus Systems!” revealing that she was unimpressed with my display of swagger.

My face flushed, and my shoulders slumped, heavy with shame and guilt for embarrassing my mother like that. Zephyra kept any opinions to herself, it would be improper to impose on my mother’s reprimand, but as we continued walking she passed a nonchalant smile at me that was etched with unmistakable approval.

Several days later, we finally bid Zephyra farewell at the same docking bay, and she held both of my hands in hers, “Eris Shepard, it has been so rewarding knowing you in our brief encounter on this journey in life. I know that you’re going to do incredible things, and I expect I will hear of your feats. May the Goddess cross our paths again, perhaps we can return to Illium to enjoy the activities that your age has prohibited on this visit. I will cherish these memories fondly until we meet again. Goddess go with you, and guide you through wisdom.”

I hugged her and my mother did as well, then we departed.

Upon arriving at the SSV Einstein our belongings had been sent ahead of us and were already delivered to our new quarters. I was tasked with arranging our belongings while my mother attended a meet and greet with the brass and the junior officers—by now she had been promoted to Commander so she was well on her way up the ranks herself.

With the assistance of my biotics, I was raising my ant farm onto the top shelf over my bunk, it had sentimental value as something that Zephyra had provided for me to assist in focus practice, when I heard the buzzer at the door. ‘ _Oh shit!_ I thought, _someone saw me, and now I’m fucked!’_ I looked around my room for a place to hide, and came to the realization that even if I hid, this is a space ship, and there are only so many places that I could go. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, I started panicking about what I was going to do, ‘ _I’m not going out without a fight. If they want me, they’ll have to work for it,’_ and I balled my fists, blue energy wisping around them.

The door buzzed again, this time followed by a familiar voice, “Eris! Are you home? It’s me, Anke Reznikov. From Camp Dozer.”

I let out a deep laugh, rolled by eyes, and hung my head. ‘ _I was ready to go out in a blaze of stupidity. Get ahold of yourself, Shepard,’_ my mother’s paranoia was getting to me. I went to the door, and opened it to see a girl from my classes at Benning, whose parents had gotten stationed on the Einstein as well. It was nice seeing a familiar face, usually when we transferred to a new post, I had to make friends all over again.

I pressed the button to open the door, “Hey Anke, sorry I kept you waiting, as you can see we’re still unpacking.” I said, hoping my deflection worked.

She smiled back and tilted her head slightly “Oh it’s alright, at least your mom trusts you enough to let you put things away on your own. I just wanted to come by to see if you would like to check out the ship? Our parents will probably be a while; this ship’s captain is kind of laid back about what his crew does after duty hours”

“Sure! Let’s go.” I responded, not even stopping to think about it. After all, exploring the ship or the base was the best part about going to a new duty station. 

The door closed behind me, and I followed Anke through the corridors, this was definitely the largest ship I had ever been aboard. I couldn’t believe there was so much ship to see, the Alliance carriers were definitely in a class above all else. There were 16 decks, 2500 compartments, and over 8,000 crewmen. Most of the upper and lower levels were off limits to unauthorized personnel, which was anyone not assigned to the ship, but there was an observation deck that we could get into, and it had a great view of the massive hangar. It was hard to fathom so many fighters and interceptors fitting into one room, there had to be a thousand of them and to top it off, this ship had three hangars. I remember feeling so overwhelmed looking at our arsenal, knowing that hell awaited anyone who ever messed with us.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? My dad pilots those fighters, and he always talks about the adrenaline rush of it all. One day I’m going to work with these beauties too. Whether its flying or building, I don’t really care. I want the fastest, most incredible ship to ever grace the Alliance fleet, to have my name somewhere on it.” Anke said, as we both stood there in awe at the spectacle beneath us.

“Ships are great and all, but I want to get my hands dirty. I want to make the galaxy a safer place…you know, kick some ass…maybe get a base or two named after me. Become a regular war hero, you know” I explained with a wry grin.

She laughed at my response, though I didn’t find it very funny, I was being serious, but her laugh was infectious, and I couldn’t help but join in.

“Go big or go home, huh?” she puffed, “So I guess you’re going to enlist right after graduation with those kind of plans.”

With a half-smile, I nodded, “Yeah, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and besides I think I would be pretty good at it, since Navy is all I’ve ever known.” I replied confidently—I just had to keep my biotics hidden a little over one more year and I would be in the clear.

“What about you? Going into the military, or off to college?” I asked.

She crossed her arms and leaned her back against the observation rail, “I don’t know, I want to learn how to defy gravity, and make the fastest ships in the galaxy. But when I think about it, there’s so much I could learn from flying around the galaxy for a while. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see, but if I had to pick right this minute, I would probably go to college.”

“Well if you change your mind, we can always sign up together under the buddy program!” I joked, and we returned our attention to the awesome hangar, a new friendship cemented in common goals.

A few weeks later I started school to begin my final year. It was a difficult adjustment not practicing my biotics every day after school, and I longed for the stimulation, and it wasn’t nearly as much fun running and keeping fit on my own. I decided that since it was my last year of school and because I never had the opportunity to experience after-school sports over the last four years maybe it I could try my hand at something.

Aboard the Einstein, it was a choice between arts and combatives, so the answer was clear. I took up combatives quite naturally, and it turned out that my biotic training had made me quite skilled at hand-to-hand styles of fighting such as in wrestling, judo, and boxing. My interest wasn’t truly piqued until I began practicing fencing, which refined hand-to-hand and combined it with a type of maneuvering, which can only be described as the dance between two stalkers engaged in a battle of strategic dominance. The fact that I would train under a ‘Maestro’ certainly made it feel more familiar anyhow. 

I was doing exceedingly well at this new post, but what child makes it all the way through adolescence without a nemesis? I found mine in a teammate, Stefan Bayles, and he took my intrusion a little too seriously when I could so adeptly acquire the skills he had been honing for years. I’m not sure whether it was because I was a girl or a noob, but he was embarrassed that I was better than him. For that, he tried his damnedest to intimidate me, and I was going to let it slide because I didn’t want any problems among the ranks, but one day after practice I was walking past him to get to the locker room, and he spat in my hair. Nothing is more insulting to me than being spat on, I was seeing red, but a reactionary throat punch put a stop to his bullshit, for a while anyway.

Even though my mother was hardly available as a result of her increased duties on this station, I found that my Maestro filled that void in ways that I will never forget. Her name was Lieutenant Jen Winston, a 24-year-old tech officer who taught fencing and wrestling on her down time. She was a short-haired brunette with piercing blue eyes, her voice was delicate but stern, and her physique was long and slender.

She was pretty amazing, and I was utterly infatuated. I suspected she knew it too, because I would always find a reason to linger around after practice, asking her for ‘extra help’ with lunging and footwork, and curiously, she never refused. _Allez_ she would say, and brutally dominate me, to teach me that the student never beats the master. I loved every minute of it.

**  
**


	6. Spacer II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning**  
> Underage (consensual) sex, as well as (non-consensual) sexual violence are alluded to in this chapter. 
> 
> Continue at your discretion.

**Chapter** 5: Spacer II

2170 – Attican Traverse/Mindoir Orbit/SSV Einstein

We were vigorously training on the piste, and I was attempting a brazen fléche when suddenly, the ships alarms began blaring. Lieutenant Winston was caught completely off guard, and in my force I crashed into her, mounting her in a moment that stopped time, our eyes met and I felt her hot breaths through my mask. I was paralyzed for a moment, but was reminded of reality when she said “Point”. 

I immediately jumped up and reached down to pull her onto her feet, she opened her omni-tool, and immediately shouted “Alright team, this is not a drill. We’re under Engagement Protocol Alpha. Follow me!”  There were alarms sounding and a crewman came over the intercom instructing Alliance personnel report to their battle stations and all others head to the bunker.

This compartment was near the center mass of the ship with reinforced kinetic barriers, and a direct tunnel to escape pods, Lieutenant Winston rounded us up and led us down the access stairs that were crowded with Marines and Naval officers reporting to their stations, many of them muttering derogatory statements about dependents on a war ship.

“I wonder what’s happening?” Anke asked, holding onto my arm to stay together in the commotion.

“Probably the batarians. They’ve been causing a lot of problems lately.” I replied knowingly, having taken an interest in the Alliance News Network with all of the free time I had on my hands. 

She said with disgust, “Oh great, why can’t those disgusting creatures just leave us alone?”

Most of the Alliance dependents weren’t fond of aliens, probably because their parents were suspicious, threatened, and often outright racist—but it seems to be human nature, as one of my favorite individuals in the galaxy has described humans as _anthropocentric bags of dicks_ on a few occasions.

When we arrived to the bunker, it was a large open room with two kinetically reinforced doors that manually locked from a wall panel. There were tables, chairs and a stack of foldable cots, this open-bay that was undoubtedly the safest place on the ship, and it was well-supplied to sustain for the duration of any combat tour.

In true Hannah Shepard fashion, my mother messaged me to ensure that I was safe and had made it to the bunker. Attached to the message was a map of the ship with a marked trail from our housing unit to the bunker—she had probably made that map for me our first day on the Einstein.

It wasn’t until we were well-established in deep space travel and colonization, that the Alliance even began allowing dependents of officers to live aboard certain ships with their parents. It had something to do with promoting morale, and retaining seasoned veterans, rather than having to keep the ranks filled with inexperienced recruits.

“You’re probably going to become an engineer just like your mom, aren’t you?” Anke asked sarcastically, admiring my omni-tool, since it was more sophisticated than her standard model. My mother had gotten me a Nexus omni-tool for my 16th birthday, while it was a wonderful gift, I think she mostly got it to keep me placated since we rarely saw one another lately.

“No, I was thinking about just skipping all that classing stuff and going straight for N7.” I taunted, nudging her in the side.

Her eyes became slits and her bottom lip pouted, “You think you’re so funny don’t you, Eris Shepard? I wish I had an omni-tool like that…do you have any idea how much tech it has?! And what do you use it for? To send messages. That’s it.”

I raised an eyebrow, and walked over to an unclaimed table, secured it, and opened my omni-tool and sent Anke a message to join me before more dependents crowded in and took her seat. Usually when my mother was stationed aboard a vessel there were only a handful of children at most, and there had to be at least 200 dependents on this ship. I guess that’s what separates a cruiser from anything else in the Navy. She had been taking in the crowd when she received my message, and I shot her a sly grin in response.

It didn’t take long before, John Waters, captain of the wrestling squad, came over to join us. He was our age, kind of obnoxious, tall and lanky, and wasn’t really skilled at hand-to-hand, but his dad was the ship’s Executive Officer, and well you know it goes.

“Hey ladies, have you heard what’s going on?” Waters asked smugly.

“It’s the batarians.” Anke retorted.

Waters rolled his eyes, “That much is obvious, but do you know what they did? Why we went out there to mop the floor with their ugly mugs?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell us.” I added sarcastically. 

He paused for a moment to add dramatic effect “Well…if you’re not interested, I guess I’ll keep it to myself.”

I let out an irritated sigh, leaning in closer to hear this top-secret intelligence that John had gotten his greasy hands on.

Speaking softly so that no one could eavesdrop on our conversation, “The batarians attacked a colony on Mindoir. Slaughtered all of them like sheep, taking what was left for slaves. When our Marines arrived last week they were swamped in Batarian forces. They’ve been down there for days cut off from the Alliance, that’s why we’re sending in reinforcements and readied up for battle. The Batarians don’t stand a chance, but I guess that’s payback for what they did to our colonists and Marines.” he explained.

Anke’s eyes widened and her jaw slacked, leaving a gap between her lips, she was shocked at the news John had just told us.

I was fuming, knowing that if I was older I could fight with them, and rip the batarians to shreds with biotics, “Fucking Batarians. I hope we hang them all by their guts, and send their ship back to their homeworld as a message not to ever fuck with us.” I snarled.

“I’m hoping for the same thing, Shepard! Great minds think alike,” Waters concurred.  “Anyway, I’m only telling you because we’re friends. You didn’t hear it from me.” With that he stood to leave, but first checked his omni-tool. “Oh, looks like we’re having a little get together in the ventilation shaft after lights out. Are you guys coming?”

I knew that breaking bad during a lockdown was not a good idea, but in adolescent spirit, it was tempting just to bend the rules to see what we could get away with. I looked to Anke, somewhat hoping she would provide the excuse to just sit there, be bored, and do the right thing.

Instead, she smiled and shrugged in response, putting the onus back to me.

“Sure, we’ll see you there.” I said, it was never my strongest suit to resist the temptation of taking a leap of fate and hoping I land on my feet.  

“Wonder who brought alcohol to an emergency lockdown?” Anke asked, after Waters was out of earshot.

I shrugged my shoulders, “With those guys, I have no idea.” trying to imagine who it may have been, but knowing it could have very well been any or all of them.

When things finally settled down a bit, Anke was reading a book on her datapad, and I was dreadfully bored. I spotted Lieutenant Winston leaned back in a chair looking equally bored, surely lamenting the fact that she’s on babysitting duty, instead of out there in the battle.

I decided I would go and chat her up, so I let Anke know I would be right back, not that she noticed.

Lieutenant Winston watched me as I approached, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her lips, but looking largely unfazed.

I leaned against the wall beside the cadre desk, “Well, this is exciting.” I said facetiously.

“Yeah…Nothing like hurry up and wait to get your blood pumping.” She sharply replied.

“Wonder how bad we’re going to lay a beating on those batarians?” I asked, hoping to perk her up some.

“Pretty bad I imagine, Shepard.” She dryly answered, and pushed a deep breath through her nose.

I could tell she was annoyed, so I nodded, and began to disappointedly leave her alone.  

She must have realized that her rejection of my small-talk was not what she really wanted, when she stopped me in my tracks, “Sorry Shepard, I just hate not being able to help. Our people are dying out there and I’m just sitting around in here, when I could be more useful doing other things. Don’t get me wrong, you all are special to me, and I undertook this extra job knowing that I would be tasked with overseeing you in emergencies. I guess it’s just different when it comes down to having to follow through on it.”

“I understand, and I wish I was old enough to enlist. I would gladly be out there with them, kicking ass and taking names” I offered, dramatically throwing my fist into my other palm.

Her eyes sparkled as she let a soft laugh, “I like you Shepard. You’re going to make one hell of a Marine someday. It’s a shame I didn’t get you sooner, with the right shaping you might be thinking about becoming an Olympian instead.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. I guess my interests have always been with the military. My mother had me in training since I was 12 at our last duty station, and I loved it. There wasn’t any of that kind of thing here though, so I figured I’d try my hand at baseball.” I explained, taking a knee beside Lieutenant Winston.

She shifted in her chair to face me “I can’t believe you never fenced before now with your nimble athleticism and ability to predict opponent movements. What kind of training did your mom have you in? ROTC?”

“Actually, it was more informal. I trained with a special forces friend that worked with my mother. She taught me a lot of great lessons, and I think I’ll be a better Marine for it when the time comes.” I explained, fondly remembering Zephyra, and the intensive training she put me through, and honestly I missed our interactions, despite thoroughly enjoying my new mentor’s attention.

“Sounds like your mom really tried to give you a jump start on what you wanted. I wish I had something like to get me prepared when I was thinking about joining up. Needless to say, Boot Camp was pretty brutal.” She said, before taking a look at her omni-tool in order to stay abreast of the situation on Mindoir. “Looks like we’re going to be here a while, Shepard.”

I let a sigh as my brow furrowed, “It’s that bad, huh?”

“Apparently so…” her voice trailed off and her expression grew defeated in acceptance of her role here.

“No worries. I’m sure we can find some way to entertain ourselves if things get too boring.” I said with a wry grin, placing my hand consolingly upon her knee.

Surprise lit up her eyes when she glanced down to my hand, then shifted them to see if anyone was paying attention to our interaction, smirked at my innuendo and leaned back in her chair, “Sounds like you have something in mind?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Maybe? We still have our gear, would you like to pick up where we left off? Then again, I’m feeling pretty good about myself for having scored a point on my Maestro.”

“Is that so?” She laughed and glanced over to the access doorway to the tunnel for the escape pods.  “Okay, Shepard, we can finish the match. Grab your stuff and follow me.”

My stomach was churning with nerves, or maybe butterflies, maybe it wasn’t even my stomach but somewhere else. Being alone with Lieutenant Winston in the escape tunnel, after the way we ended the match last time, the thought of it was making my heart pound and my head spin.

I strutted over to the table where I had left Anke, and grabbed my mask and sabre. She was still buried in her book, and barely even noticed that I had come back for my things, still I told her I was going to be with Lieutenant Winston, she nodded, though I don’t know whether or not she actually heard me.

Lieutenant Winston was waiting for me at the doorway “Let’s go, Shepard.”

“I’m ready!” I shouted, as I ran over to meet her.

The tunnel was long and narrow, but heavily fortified as evidenced by the glow of kinetic shields to protect the hull. I followed beside her but slightly behind, allowing her to lead the way and for me to occasionally catch a glance of her walking. Her service uniform fit the details of her muscles exceptionally, and did I mention that ass?

We finally reached an area near the escape pods where the corridor widened and allowed for more range of motion, “All right Shepard, en garde! Pay attention to my movements.” she told me.

I readied my posture and parried with her for a while, for some reason she was holding back on her lunges, perhaps awaiting me to make the forward movement. We danced like that what seemed like several minutes, when finally, I lunged and she touched me. Again, she parried with me, seemingly teasing, so I lunged, forward, forward, forward, never making any contact, then she unleashed her fléche and touched me with such force that she ran right past me.   

“Where is your aggression, Shepard? I have seen you decimate your opponents. Why hold back with me? Don’t you think I enjoy a challenge?” She teased.

My face flushed, had I not been putting everything into my training? Even if I hadn’t, if she wanted a challenge, she would get it. “Ah, but Maestro, I don’t think you could bear the shame of losing.”

She laughed and prepared her stance. Forward, forward, retreat, parry, counter, bounce in, out, in, parry, duck, retreat, I could do nothing to gain advantage on her, but she did not touch on me either. Only when I was backed out of the piste did she laugh “Arret” and lift her mask.  “That was much better.” She said, but her simple statement carried such implication.

“I would like to show you something that may help with your defense. Do you mind?” She asked.

I was all too willing to learn everything I could, “Of course, Maestro.” I answered.

“En garde” she almost whispered, and I prepared my stance as she moved behind me to assist in moving my arm in a new position. My body stiffened, and my breath was catching before it could leave my lungs. I felt the softness of her breasts rubbing against my back as she tilted my arm. The moist warmth of her breath was landing on my neck, making my senses run wild. She was talking to me, guiding my arm and wrist, but I was completely oblivious to what she was telling me, my concentration distracted by the firing of every neuron in my body with response to her touch. As she positioned my arm, I felt her body enclosing mine, and my heart was pounding, eliciting beads of sweat from my forehead. She must have begun to notice the effect she was having on me because she then hesitated, and her movements were less directive.

I bit my lip and closed my eyes while she lingered over my shoulder, and without thought, I dropped the sabre to the floor and turned my hungry lips to find hers. The older woman leaned in, softly capturing me, her arms slid down my sides and rested on my hips, and my hands immediately reciprocated, her lips began to part and tempt my own with her hot tongue, but in my inexperience she felt my hesitation and she began to pull away.

“Shepard… We shouldn’t… You’re only 16.” she reminded me, but more so herself through hot labored breaths.

“I’m age of consent for Alliance space.” I whispered, pressing my torso against hers, “Fuck, I want you so bad...” I said, sucking on my lips and tasting her still on them.

I leaned into her ear, “And I think you want me, too.” I breathed, and I began teasing her neck with my lips and tongue, hinting at what I wanted to do to her body.

She threw her head back, a soft moan escaping her lips, as her hands slid down my sides, firmly grabbing my ass. Her excitement was building and any remaining protests she may have put up were becoming forfeit under my desire, but she was older, and I was very inexperienced.

It didn’t take her long to take control of the situation away from me; the magical words ‘age of consent’ must have done the trick. She picked me up, and I straddled her waist while she placed hot kisses and nibbled over my collar bone before sliding her tongue down the V of my shirt into my cleavage. She carried me into the emergency escape pod, driving me mad with her purposefully placed hands and lips. Every part she touched, every intentional lick or suck, she knew would illicit a certain profound response in me. I think she took some satisfaction in her expertise of female anatomy over me, but I didn’t care, I wanted her to show me, I needed it.  

She revealed to me what it meant to be the target of wanton lust, and I reciprocated my passionate desire in every way I could imagine at the time. That was how I lost my virginity, and we made an agreement thereafter, that whatever happens afterward was determinant upon my discretion. She would gladly give me more ‘private lessons’, so long as I understood that it was never to be spoken of, and I was more than willing to accommodate her demands.

Upon returning to the compartment, I found Anke still deep in her book. I was grinning from ear to ear, and getting her curiosity piqued was unavoidable. She asked about where I had gone for so long, and I told her I was just taking the opportunity to work on my dueling. She shrugged and didn’t bother to ask about why that made me so happy, but I couldn’t have told her anyhow.

After the final headcount we settled into our cots and the officers called for lights out. The large room was dark except for the red emergency lights.

We waited about 10 minutes before rolling out of our cots. Ducked for cover so that the guard wouldn’t see us, we made our way to the ventilation service opening that had already been jarred open. It was a short crawl through the shaft before we came to another opening that let us down into a maintenance closet.

Three of the seven members of our team were already present, Waters among them. Anke dropped out of the shaft first, and I followed. “Glad you two could make it. We were just about to get started on this bottle of rum that Fuentes’s dad will be missing, when he gets thirsty.” Waters said cheekily.

“I see you brought your little girlfriend, Shepard.” Bayles grumbled, turning up his own brown-colored bottle of booze.

“Bayles, I was sure that throat punch taught you to keep your nasty mouth to yourself. Do you need a refresher course?” I hissed, cracking my knuckles, already regretting that I bothered to come down here.

“Now, now, girls.” interrupted Sarah Fuentes, glaring at Bayles, “We’re here to have a good time, and take our mind off the fact that our parents are out there kicking ass, while we sit around bored on our asses. We’re not going to bicker over who is the prettiest, because everyone knows it’s me, and if you disagree, then we can take it up in the ring.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her deflection, and with a deep sigh I walked over to a wall, leaned my back against it, and put as much distance between me and Bayles as possible without actually leaving.

Waters had poured me and Anke a cup each of the sweet liquor and she brought mine over to me. “Thanks.” I said, taking a sip of the hot alcohol. “Sorry he’s such a dick.” I said, the injury laden in my eyes, I had hoped with deepest sincerity that he hadn’t wounded my friend. I felt terrible for dragging her into my problem.  

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called worse things than my best friend’s girlfriend.” She replied, with a forced smile.

A few minutes later, another team member arrived with his own bottle in hand. I was beginning to feel lame for not having brought some as well, but at the time, drinking wasn’t something that I valued enough to keep some on hand—you know, just in case we went to war, and needed a stash to carry into a closet under a lockdown.

We all sat around chatting for a while, the alcohol easing away most reservations with petty rivalry and we all shared some personal stories about the duty stations we had been to, the conflicts we had seen, and the experience of being Navy brats.

I was talking with Fuentes for some time, preferring her rum to the other alcohol being passed around. She was a robust girl, in both presence and personality. Standing roughly 6’2” with broad shoulders and a solid frame, she was the personification of a heavy hitter. We talked about the different stations we had been to, what our parents did for the Alliance, and our aspirations for after graduation. She was determined that she would go to Earth to become a professional boxer, and I had no doubt in my mind that she could do just that.

Eventually the booze caught up to all of us, and we became highly susceptible to influence. Waters had the grand idea that it would be fun to use the ventilation access, to travel down into the hangar, and get a glimpse of some of the action. Of course we all agreed that was a great plan, and since he was the XO’s son—in our drunken-adolescent-logic—probably wouldn’t get in as much trouble for getting caught.

One after the other, we hoisted ourselves back up into the ventilation shaft, Waters lead the way, since he had a copy of the Einstein’s blueprint on his omni-tool, which he programmed to direct us to the proper main artery, that would take us into the hangar. It was a pretty long trek getting to the artery, and my knees and elbows were quite bruised. The artery was much larger, we could practically stand, and there were several ladders that led us down to the hangars.

When we finally reached Hangar-A, we crowded around a grated opening. Despite the late hour, the crew was still very much active, and fighters were flying in and out. We were in awe at seeing the Alliance fighters in all their glory, even if they were just moving around in a hangar. I think it’s fair to say that we may have idolized the Alliance, being so close to it, but everything was out of our reach or off limits.

A safety engineer was doing inspections of the perimeter, and when he headed in our direction, we decided that was our cue to return to the vents. Anke lingered a little on the sight of the fighters, and I hesitated to continue, until I heard her join the rest of us. The crawl was worse on the way back, because the skin on my elbows and knees already had the blueness of blood pooling up to the surface from the first excursion, but I guess it was worth it to see the Einstein in action.

Back into the maintenance closet we quickly returned to our drinks, but immediately I realized that Anke hadn’t made it back yet. My heart jumped, maybe she had gotten lost in the duct, or worse.

“Where’s Anke?” I asked the other drunken teenagers.

“I thought she was behind you, Shepard.” Waters replied with a shrug.

“Shit. I bet she is lost. Waters, send me those blueprints, I’m going back in to look for her.” I demanded, not thinking twice about getting caught without the XO’s son.

Without question he pulled up the file and sent it to me, “Here you go, good luck, and hurry back. Not sure there will be much of the good stuff left if you take too long.”

I didn’t waste time with a reply, and climbed back into the shaft, my bruises now grown numb from the continuous battering. Since I was alone, I decided to flare up my biotics some, just to take the pressure off them.

I crawled back through the way we came from, without sign of Anke. Once I reached the main artery again, I sent her a message over her omni-tool. If she had gotten turned around in the artery there was no way I could find her, since it stretched throughout the entirety of the ship. I waited about 10 minutes without a reply. My heart sank, she would have replied if she was able to. _‘Shit. What the hell am I going to do now? Dammit, think, Shepard!’_ I was drawing a blank, my mind clouded by the booze. I resent the message on my omni-tool three times, waiting less time between the next message than the last. Then it occurred to me, I knew basic hacking, and I had a pretty good omni-tool, _‘I’ll just ping her location and track her. Let me just connect her signal to the blueprint file and I’ll find her that way.’_

I input the codes that I needed and waited for the omni-tool to do its magic. Almost instantly, I had what I needed and headed down the artery, into another shaft, that led to a room in similar location on a different level. Back into another vent on my elbows and knees, I crawled toward my lost friend, mentally preparing the ridicule that I would bombard her with, for having gotten lost in the first place.

I was near her location, when I began hearing the muffled voices coming from a room that had a large whirring machine. I immediately suspected that she was caught by security, but kept crawling forward just to make sure.

“Ungh…you stupid bitch…mmmm…yeah…you like it…fucking dyke….” The words burned my ears, I was raging, what was he doing to Anke!?

The biotics shot from my body, I was too drunk, too angry, too focused to care if they snitched on me for having biotics. I leaped down into the closet, grabbed the monster off my friend by the back of his shirt collar, and turn him around to face me, his erect penis flopping out of my sobbing friend.

“Bayles!!!” I spat through gritted teeth, my biotics lifting him up. “You fucking fuck. I should kill you right here.” The sound of my friend wailing was only adding fuel to my already raging fire. I had never felt my biotics so ready to destroy something, to fly from every inch of my body and tear anything that stood in my way asunder…the very thing that they were most afraid of about biotics.

Of course, Bayles was a coward and immediately began crying, either from the shame of having been caught and the consequences that would follow when we turned him in for rape, or maybe because he had never seen a biotic, let alone one that was determined to make him hurt.

I couldn’t think straight, I wanted to kill him, but I couldn’t leave my friend laying there half naked and crying. I put him in a stasis and went to her, helping her dress and then I held her trembling body. I consoled her for a while, pausing only to reinforce my stasis occasionally. When she was no longer hysterical, I asked, “Anke, what do you want me to do with him. I’ll make him suffer, but if you want to, we can turn this in to the Alliance, and them handle it. It’s entirely up to you.”

She sniffled and shook her head, “Eris, he attacked me while I was climbing the ladder up to the ventilation shaft. Knocked me out cold and dragged me into this room. I’ve got it all on my omni-tool, and its indisputable…” Anke said, hesitating before adding “Yet, nothing will happen to him. Even with all of this proof, guys like him get away with this shit. Their daddies pull some strings and they barely get a slap on the wrist before going on to do it to a dozen other girls. You hear about it all the time.”

My fists trembling with anger, “Do you want me to take care of him Anke? Just tell me what you want me to do.” I seethed.

“I want to make sure he can’t ever do this to another girl...” Anke growled in a deep voice, devoid of emotion. With that she pushed herself up on her feet, and released an overload that fried his omni-tool. Whatever happens next would not be recorded, at least not by him, and all of his data from this evening would be forever gone.

I heard the whirring of the kinetic fan behind me, and with a nod from Anke it occurred to me, “Freaks put their dicks in places they don’t belong, and you’re the biggest freak of them all, Bayles.” I used a biotic pull to bring him toward the fan, his rape tool had become flaccid, but my biotics could take care of that without even touching the dirty bastard.

 

 


	7. Boot Camp

2172 – Sol System/Saturn-Titan/Macapa Station  

After that horrible incident in the ventilation shaft, Bayles death was ruled an unfortunate accident resulting from teenage recklessness. Anke and I both backed one another with the story that she got lost with him, and he was so drunk that he tried pissing into the fan, staggered into it, and killed himself. It was fortunate for us, that the massacre on Mindoir was consuming a lot of the Einstein’s resources, or they may have been willing to probe more deeply into the circumstances. My actions were the very reason people feared biotics, after all.

That attack on Mindoir changed a lot of things. First of all, I lost my virginity in two ways: I experienced the amazing side of sex, but I also saw the most horrible atrocities that humans can use against one another with it. Secondly, it was the first time I had taken someone’s life and not even in self-defense, and I acted as judge, jury, and executioner. Maybe I should have turned him into the military police…but I am the one who makes the tough decisions, and I live with the consequences—for better or worse, and that was just the first instance of many. Admittedly, afterward I did consider the possibilities, or alternatives that could have allowed for different outcomes. The reality though, is that Anke got retribution, and Bayles would never be able to hurt anyone like that again. I guess it would be fair to conclude, that this event forever impacted the way I view justice, and my role in it.

She and I became much closer afterward, and I even showed her a few of my biotic tricks. She swore to never tell anyone about my biotics, and she actually encouraged me to look into Alliance recruitment incentives for biotics. New programs, and positive propaganda was released about biotics regularly back then, and it slowly dispelled the prejudices about us. Zephyra’s research must have had a profound impact on the way the Alliance approached biotics—at least that’s what I assumed, since the timing was right.

Lieutenant Winston and I still fooled around from time to time, but she was not interested in anything more than that, and I guess neither was I. At the time it was difficult to distinguish my lustful infatuation with what I thought was love…she taught me well, I’ll give her that.

The combatives club fared better without Bayles, though Lieutenant Winston felt somewhat responsible for letting him out of her sight, and there was a lot of guilt among some of the others for not looking after Bayles—but they didn’t know the truth, nor would they ever find out.

When graduation finally rolled around in December 2171, my mother had already arranged to take me on a vacation before my 18th birthday that upcoming April. To do that, she would take some leave time for herself, knowing that I had intended to enlist as soon as I could, and that meant we may not see one another again for a very long time.

She bought us a 30-day galactic tour ticket aboard a civilian ship, which was similar to a colonial resort, but with better attractions, and more things to do aboard than almost any colony had to offer.  It was nice seeing my mother relax and let her hair down—she looked like she hadn’t really relaxed in 20 years, to be honest.

She took me to the casinos, even drank with me since the age of consumption meant very little in intergalactic territories. “Eris, I am so proud of the woman you’ve become, and I know you’re going to make an amazing Marine.” She hesitated for a moment, “Though, sometimes I wonder if it was selfish of me, staying with the Alliance all these years, never having a permanent home for you, always on a space ship or some remote colony, surrounded by danger… Tell me, do you feel like you missed out on anything from your childhood, that I should have provided you?” My mother asked, sitting adjacent to me in a lounge as she sipped her cognac.

“Don’t worry, I had a good childhood. It has been the kind of amazing life that you only read about in books, or see in vids.” I told her with utmost sincerity. Things weren’t perfect, but she did her best and it was a lot of fun most of the time. 

She nodded with a thoughtful smile, “So, when we get back, I’ve gathered you’re going to meet with a recruiter. I suppose my dragging you around all these years, has given you a taste for the adventure of space. Have you given it any thought about what you want to specialize in?”

“Well, since they’re giving out all of those bonuses for biotics, why not take advantage of it. They’ll figure out I’m a biotic anyway, and push me in that direction, ‘needs of the service’ and all. I may as well get compensated for it.” I replied, knowing that she had probably already been looking into it for me.

“Eris, that makes perfect sense, and I am relieved to hear that you have been doing your own digging.” She said, taking another sip of her cognac. “It seems that we made the right call in getting you trained with Zephyra, and she stayed true to her word. The Alliance has made great strides with the research at the BAaT, combined with the asari’s reports.” She boasted, finding pride in protecting me from the Alliance, and the fact it was her daughter who provided Zephyra with information that changed humanity’s approach to biotics.

“As it turns out, a Marine that I served with some time ago, is now a higher up in the recruiting command, and I took the liberty of making a few inquiries on your behalf. He is looking forward to hearing from you” She informed, showing that she was still thorough to a fault in preparation as she ever was.

The rest of our vacation was nice, if not bittersweet. We took small trips at least once a year, going to see the sights and sounds from all corners of Alliance space. There wasn’t much I hadn’t seen in terms of developed settlements, but there was a lot of space left to explore, conquer, and defend.

That was the last time we got to do that sort of thing, and I think that she suspected it would be—there is a reason the Alliance Navy allows its personnel to bring dependents aboard certain ships, after all.

When we arrived back at the Einstein, I began packing up my belongings. The Alliance gives 180 days from graduation for dependents to make arrangements for their transition into adulthood, but it is required that they must relocate whether solid plans are in place or not. Anke came by to help me and we shared stories about our post-graduation activities, the reality that we would begin the next chapter of our lives was closing in. She was sitting on my bed looking at a souvenir that I had picked up from our trip to Illium, it was a glittery-blue ‘EEZO charged’ stone from the asari homeworld—or at least that is what it was advertised as.

Tumbling it between her fingers, she looked to me, “So, were you still interested in doing the buddy program?” she asked. 

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a smile forming on my face, “Are you serious?! I thought you were going to college?” I asked with surprise, having never forgotten about that little exchange we had when we first came to the Einstein. 

“I am serious. Seeing you getting ready to go take on the galaxy is inspiring me jump in and do the same. I have thought it over in the last year, and there is really no reason not to. It’s like you said, being raised by the Navy means we’ll probably be really good at it.” She admitted, still tumbling the stone between her fingers.

Setting a box of trophies and photos down on the floor, “I’m supposed to talk to a recruiter over vidcom on Monday. You can sit in on it with me, if you want.” I offered.

“I would like that. Thank you, Shepard.” Anke said, setting the stone down on my empty desk.

“No problem, Reznikov.” I snickered at addressing her by her last name, for the first time ever.

As expected, our meeting with the recruiter went smoothly, he indicated that it would take him a few weeks to get the paperwork together, which would be around my birthday anyway, and it wasn’t even a problem for Anke since she had already turned 18 in November. Anke chose the engineer class in order to qualify for pilot school, and of course I went with biotics. Regrettably, even though we were going in under the buddy program, we would be doing our training separately. The Alliance conducts its training programs in different systems, and aboard different stations, depending on your class, so we wouldn’t be able to serve together until our first duty station. Her training would last for 24 months, assuming she is selected for pilot school, and mine for 36 months.

When it was time to sign our six-year contracts, the recruiter arrived personally to the SSV Einstein. My mother and Anke’s parents made a big deal about it, and their commanding officers were there to give us an oath-affirming ceremony—but it was more of an excuse for them to mingle, and pat us on the back for following in their footsteps. Some of them expressed surprise that I had been a biotic all this time, and right under their noses, but they were impressed that I kept it under such control and it gave them hope for the future of human biotics. I let them know that I was trained by one of the galaxy’s best biotics, but didn’t drop Zephyra’s name, never knowing if there could be blow back from her investment in me, or whether it would arouse suspicion that my biotics were cultivated by an alien.

For training, we would both be returning to the Sol System, I was headed to the Macapa Station nearby Saturn’s moon, Titan, and Reznikov went to Camp Voyager on Ceres. The day we shipped out was full of emotions, but mostly excitement, I had no idea what to be prepared for with the new biotics school, unlike other schools, for which there was ample recruitment literature.

I left most of my non-essential personal effects with my mother, including my ant farm, since it would likely not be allowed in a training environment. Then we departed the Einstein aboard a transport vessel, and when we reached the Charon Station, Anke gave me a hug and we wished each other good luck, then we parted ways toward our respective destinations.

There were 6 other recruits aboard the flight to the Macapa. The trip took about 7 hours, and on the approach to the icy station, I felt my stomach tighten. I was imagining war-hardened drill instructors, that would slam me with their biotics for not performing properly, nervously failing to remember that my training with the Asari Commando, which had prepared me for more than anything the Alliance could throw at me.

Upon pulling into the dock, a Gunnery Chief wearing a brown-round boarded and ordered us off the shuttle, and to fall-in behind a yellow line. “Aye-aye sir” we shouted in unison, as we grabbed our bags and scrambled off the shuttle to stand at attention, to wait for further instructions. From there, the Drill Instructor berated and mind fucked us in double time to the uniform depot, where we shed our former identities, and were born again, Recruits in Alliance utility blues. Upon arrival at our training barracks, four other Drill Instructors were awaiting us, and gave a thorough Naval Marine Corps orientation, complete with shouting, running, push-ups, and psychologically-breaking activities that intimately acquainted us with the hell that we signed up for. 

My class of biotics was a tight-knit one, since we spent every waking minute together, it was only natural. I shared a bunk, and occasionally a shower stall, or a maintenance closet, with Micha Pulaski. She was from a colony called Demeter, just beyond the Kuiper Belt in Sol System. Her biotics weren’t as refined as mine, but she was very well-developed in other areas where it mattered.

There were seventeen other women and twelve men in our class, most of them were from a colony somewhere, there was only one other spacer besides me, some admiral’s daughter who dropped her daddy’s name when she thought it would get her special favor—she had a case of entitlement that was sickening to watch.

Biotic Boot Camp was designed completely differently from the rest, simply due to the fact, that we could use our biotics to assist in some of the most difficult tasks, including jumping to extraordinary heights, lifting very heavy objects, running at insane speeds, which made standard military training tasks relatively unchallenging. The Alliance was well aware of this, so they incorporated it into our training. Essentially we were partly trained as engineers and soldiers early on, and later in our training we would choose a specialization, either Adept, Vanguard, or Sentinel.

The first nine weeks of Boot Camp was spent learning basic military standards and procedure, such as proper dress, military customs, rank structure by knowing our place at the bottom of it, using standard-issue weaponry, conducting field-medic triage, and learning to withstand physical and psychological torment but still perform our war-fighting duties with surgical precision. It was brutal, but that’s what makes Marines. The next six months consisted of standard engineering, such as hacking, using medi-gels, omni-tool programs, etc. in addition to learning standard controls of Alliance vehicles, including the M35 Mako.

Biotics was split into two phases, basic and advanced. When it was time to begin basic biotics training, we were transferred to the lower deck which was the medical bay. We had no idea what awaited us, some were speculating that they were about to divide us up into ability levels, based on biometric scans of our biotics. While that was partially accurate, in terms of biotic ability, it was very far from what was actually about to happen.

“Listen up recruits, the L3 biotic implant is a state-of-the art military-grade amplification portal that will enhance your biotic abilities exponentially. Now, some of you may have heard about the L2, rest assured we have made significant upgrades on the L3, and the risks associated with implant are practically non-existent. We have perfected the design, and have developed the ability to personalize the implant with your unique biomarkers.” The medical officer informed, standing in front of a screen that revealed what awaited us.

My class began to grumble amongst each other. “Do they really expect us to get our bodies modded with those implants?!” Recruit Lewis whispered to me with disbelief. I just shrugged in response, not having any real knowledge about what made these biotic amplifiers so dangerous. With that, our Commanding Drill Instructor emerged and ordered us all to shut up and pay attention, or we would be pounding the ground with our faces for the next six hours.

The medical officer continued, “As of right now, most of your biotic abilities are not strong enough to be used as a weapons against even the weakest of enemy combatants, and in order to remain competitive against the older, more biotically astute races, it is imperative that we produce the strongest biotics that we can.”

And so, we spent the next four months getting fitted with and adjusting to our fancy new biotic implants. Some tried to refuse, but were quickly reminded that they had signed a contract and accepted a substantial bonus for agreeing to serve in the Alliance as a biotic, which in turn meant agreeing to biotic upgrades. It was underhanded, but the Alliance has a reputation for such tactics.

During our integration process, we learned that they had been monitoring our biometrics since we arrived, and was a part of the medical screening and omni-tool upgrades we received on arrival. From that data, they had been preparing our individual L3 implants.

It was a relatively simple surgery, and the recovery was only a few hours, though getting readjusted to my biotics would take some time. With the implant sitting at the base of my skull, I was able to cover it discretely with my bun of hair. It didn’t hurt per se, but it was an odd sensation, the micro-mass-effect-bursts through my biotics seemed to be enhanced at a constant rate. It was like wearing a costume—it didn’t feel like a natural expression of my homeostasis, as I had grown accustomed to. In fact, I sensed the undercurrent of my biotics multiplied to probably 100 times their normal flair. Additionally, I discovered that my mind power had grown tremendously, as a side-effect I could focus more clearly, and accurately than ever before. I remember thinking, ‘ _If only Zephyra had been able to give me a biotic implant all those years ago, when she was teaching me to meditate… What trouble that would have saved her.’_

From there, our class was assigned to the advanced biotics section of the station, which came with more freedom from the Drill Instructors, but was still very much an initial training environment. I was pleased to see so many biotics, there had to be around 250 of us aboard this station. I found out later, that some of the advanced recruits, and most of the instructors came from the biotic acclimation and training (BAaT) facility, and were L1 and L2 bearers who didn’t have much choice afterward but to join the Alliance with their unstable-yet-powerful implants. I couldn’t help but feel empathy for the L2’s, it was a tragic thing to have to endure, and when I saw the crippling headaches some of them were prone to, I was ever-thankful to my mother for protecting me from that fate.

In biotic training I had to sort of relearn many of the asari biotic techniques that I had previously been taught, in order to adjust my skills to the Alliance standards. In my opinion, after being trained on both, the asari tactics are far superior in terms of regulating the energy fields and manipulating their accuracy through full-body expressions, but for the sake of training and Alliance regulations, I did what they asked. Over the next year I learned their technique for throws, lifts, biotic explosions, novas, slams, warps, singularities, and most importantly, impossible-to-penetrate barriers.

Since I had an understanding of biotics that my classmates did not, I was often selected to act as a squad leader on practical exercises, which garnered some attention from the higher ups and awarded me a distinguished service ribbon.

Since our training was so prolonged, biotics being so few-and-far between with our duties aboard ships setting us apart from the rest, we all graduated with NCO ranks. For my unmatched biotic aptitude in my cohort, I was selected for advanced promotion, and received my Gunnery Chief rank at graduation.

There isn’t much else to say about Boot Camp, it was just standard Marine training, the only remarkable thing about it is that I got my implant, and I was officially inducted into the Alliance, so it literally marked the beginning of my ‘distinguished career’.

 

 


	8. Borderland I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a crossover section. It seemed fun, and why the hell not?

**Chapter** 7: Borderland I

2175 – Phoenix Massing/Pandora-Elpis/SSV Tripoli 

Since my first three years of service to the Alliance were spent in training, when I arrived to my duty assignment, I was high-speed and beyond ready to defend humanity on the galactic front. Assigned to the Fourth Fleet, 67th Marine Expeditionary Unit, I served as the SSV Tripoli’s Tactical Biotic Serviceman, a ‘highly prestigious’ title that naturally evoked suspicion and prejudices—since there were so few biotics in the Alliance, there would often only be one or two of us in an entire flotilla.

I met up with the Tripoli via transport in the Attican Beta, once aboard I met with my commander where I was welcomed aboard, and briefed on my duties and responsibilities. After I finished the meet and greet, I was sent quarter deck to the crew compartments to secure a bunk, change out of my Dress Blues into my service uniform, and acquire a tour guide to show me around the ship.

Immediately upon opening the hatch to the lift, my eyes laid contact on a familiar face. “Shepard! You finally made it!” Reznikov shouted and ran to greet me, and wrapped her arms around me, the impact causing some of my gear to fall out of my arms onto the deck.

“It’s great to see you too, Anke… er, Reznikov.” I said through a wide smile, one arm wrapped around her in return.

Reznikov released her embrace and rocked back on her hip with arms crossed, she had grown up since I had seen her last, she looked more angular, rigid, strong, but her features were still soft and innocent—something that was a defining characteristic that never really changed over the years. “I’ve been here a year already. I was almost worried that something had happened to you. Thankfully your mom was able to keep me in the loop about your training—must’ve been above top secret.”

“Sorry about that, they really kept us locked down. I’m glad to finally be out so I can put their investment to use.” I offered, and she was right it was a highly confidential program, hence my surprise at the amplifiers. “So, I guess you’re my tour guide?” I asked presumptuously, figuring that the Captain was aware of our contractual agreement, and that he had arranged her to be my battle buddy.

“Sure! Come on, let me show you to your bunk, follow me.” Reznikov offered, musing at my professional title, she turned to lead me down three decks to the crew compartments and down a passageway to a room on the port side, which held two bunks, and she pointed to the one on the aft bulkhead, “Welcome aboard, Eris! This is going to be so awesome!”

I put my gear away in the foot and wall lockers, uploaded my name tape to the bunk, then I took a deep breath and looked around the room, this would be home for the next several years.

“It really isn’t all that bad. As far as ships go, it is actually quite nice. I think you’ll find the difference being crewmen as opposed to dependents aboard a ship, is inconceivably better.” Reznikov offered, and she knew about as much about ships as I did being a Navy brat.

She showed me around the ship, it was a standard frigate nothing too high tech, the cargo deck held the armory, but it was also filled to the brim with supplies for colonial security efforts, the fourth deck had the main canon, engineering, the core, and med bay, the third deck was where the crew quarters, dining facility, and officer’s compartment were located. Upper deck of course was the combat readiness and information center, as well as the bridge.

It was a lot to take in at first, but the ship was miniature by comparison to a carrier class, or any space station, so it didn’t take long for it to feel like home. In fact, it didn’t take long to get to know everyone either, that was the advantage of a frigate: they’re small, tactical, and pack enough fire power to make it a force to be reckoned with.

Reznikov and me shared stories about what our training was like, she shared with me some of the missions she had been on already, and boasted that she is one of the operators of the surface to air transport, which was almost as good as getting to pilot a fighter in her mind.

My first post put me in charge of a squad of several engineers and soldiers, but when we weren’t out on missions, I conducted maintenance on the mass effect cores, biotic mods, and EEZO stores. I guess they figured, since I had already adapted to EEZO, and the worst of it being that I developed biotics, it only made sense that I would be comfortable working up close and personal with it—not that I minded at all, it gave me something to besides paper work.

I was assigned to the 11th Combat Task Force and acted as team leader over Bravo. Having the misfortune of being still wet-behind-the-ears, many of the crewmen assigned under me were skeptical about my abilities. I can’t say I blame them either. It is difficult to trust someone who is awarded authority based on arbitrary assignment of rank, right out of school, with no practical experience.

Most of my first missions were security details to safe-guard colonists from bandits or mercenaries. On one of those assignments, we were sent to a moon called Elpis, near the Terminus Systems, to investigate reports of a corporation developing AI technology.

Reznikov piloted the tactical vehicle down to the moon’s surface—and she was a natural at the helm. Anyway, the moon was a desolate ice world, polluted with human bandits who scavenged the abandoned company parts. They wore cheaply designed digital O2 masks, which probably was partly responsible for the hostile and delusional behavior, as well as their blue-skin from hypoxia. I’m fairly certain that they were former colonists who were abandoned there.

Once we landed, everywhere we looked, we found evidence of extensive research and development to produce advanced weaponry. A company called ‘Dahl’ had its logo painted on most surfaces large enough to hold the pain. Looking back, I would wager, that they offered a payment to the government of Pandora—the planet which owns this moon—for exclusive mining rights to the moon. All over the eastern hemisphere, there were massive mines and dig sites, with small colonies scattered all over.

The obvious hub of business was Concordia, its size and population meant if there was any kind of leadership on this ice box, it was likely going to be there. We went into the city, where Lieutenant Fierro, our combat team leader, split us up into our respective squads in order to cover the most ground, and gather the best intelligence about where to find this AI, and also, who is in charge.

While Alpha team went up talk with the governor of the colony, a man called ‘Meriff’. I took Bravo to have a chat with the local underground-resistance leader and bartender, Moxxi. 

It was surprising to see how many VI’s and robots were in use on this remote moon, but I had come to expect bizarre things such as this, where rogue corporations were concerned.

Once inside Concordia, we were stopped by an oddly-voiced VI robot named CL4P-TP CU5TM, I left two of my servicemen there to interrogate for any information they could gather, while and me and Reznikov went to speak with the bartender.

The music was thumping the walls with the beats and synthetic notes of electronica. Seeing the dancing patrons on the floor, reminded me that I hadn’t set foot in a nightclub in many years—I was 21 years old, not that it bothered me, but I missed out on a lot of things while I was in biotics training...

At the rear of the establishment, was the bar, where the bartender had spotted us right away, and maintained eye-contact as I approached her. Before I could introduce myself, she blurted, “Hey sugar, you don’t look like you’re from around here.” The vampy bartender asked. She was wearing way too much make up, you could balance two beers on her cleavage. She obviously wanted attention, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at the tattoo she had on her left breast.

“Take all the time you need, looks are free, but if you need something else, well that might cost you.” The bartender teased, her voice becoming intentionally sultry.

I swallowed hard and redirected my eye-contact, “My name is Gunnery Chief Shepard, and we’re with the Alliance Marines. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind.” I said, slightly embarrassed at my indiscretion.

“That depends, sugar. Information is very valuable…and very dangerous in the wrong hands. What’s in it for me?” She bartered, leaning toward me, drawing her finger on my jawline. 

I knew that my squad was watching my movements, they were still figuring out what type of leader I was. Anke was certainly watching intently, as she had never seen this side of me.

“I might be willing to negotiate, what do you want?” I asked, holding back my surprise at her brazen innuendo.

“Mmm… I like a girl with an open mind.” The bartender winked, and reached underneath the bar. This raised my alarms that she was about to pull a gun, and so I readied mine, and my team followed suit, when a secret door to the side of a slot machine opens.

“Don’t blow your load just yet, sugar. I was hoping we could have a more private discussion.” She smiled, gesturing that I follow her into the side room.

I nodded, and turned to my team that I would go alone, and to give me 10 minutes. She led me back into a workshop that held some type of hovercraft prototype by suspension wires, “Never mind that sugar, I just like to tinker around on my down time.” She stepped forward and ran her finger down my chest, “So, are _you_ on the table as a bargaining chip?” The bartender asked provocatively.

“That depends. What do you have in mind?” I asked, arching an eyebrow with a half-smile.

“Believe it or not sugar, I’ve been stuck on this moon for a while, and it has been too long since someone’s taken care of some…,” she paused to move her eyes down toward my center “business for me.” She pressed herself against me and breathed into my ear, “Promise it’s nothing you won’t enjoy.”  

It had been too long for me as well. In fact, since Lieutenant Winston, I had a fling in Boot Camp with my bunkmate, just to relieve the tension, but aboard the Tripoli, well frankly, it was slim pickings.  

The spicy smell of her perfume was intoxicating. Entranced by her wanton lust, I reached around to find two plump mounds and gently pulled her hungry lips scantily close to mine, “I’m sure I can accommodate you, Ma’am.”  

Immediately she began unbuckling my armor plates, exposing my compression suit. The ravenous vixen tugged my trousers down, falling to her knees in unison with the motion, she leaned in and locked her eyes to mine with intent. I didn’t have time for games, my eyes gestured downward, commandingly giving her the go-ahead to proceed with her mission.

I braced myself against the lockers behind me for support, as she slid her hot tongue down one side of my swollen sex and up the other side. My legs parted and I propped one foot on an overturned bucket to allow her better access. She obliged by slipping two fingers inside of me while her lips and tongue sucked on my throbbing…I’m sure you’re not interested in the details, but yeah, I fucked Moxxi to get information. It was a mutually beneficial business arrangement.

After she had what she wanted, I went straight to the point, “We have reports of illegal artificial intelligence being present on this moon. What do you know about that” I interrogated while redressing myself.

“Mmm, you Marines sure know how love ‘em and leave ‘em… Just my type.” She sighed, rolling her eyes at my lack of romance and in reached down to pull up her skirt and panties. “You’ll want to talk to Dahl. If there is anything shady going on around here, they’re behind it. If it’s down on Pandora, it could be just as likely be Dahl as Hyperion, Atlas, or any of the other self-interested pricks. Here on Elpis though it’s always Dahl. Look for a Colonel Zarpedon, she’s some kind of former Alliance mercenary, and she’s running things for Dahl around here lately. Last I heard she was snooping around some ancient ruins out in Vorago Solitude. If she has an AI, it’s on her ship The Drakensburg, parked out near the Outlands Spur.” The bartender explained, looking annoyed, but somehow that made her presence seem even more attractive, if not deadly.

“That’s it?” I was surprised the information was so blatant.  

“All I know sugar, the more Dahl you take out now, the less I will have to deal with later on. As you can see, when whoever they work for is done with them, they just leave them here scavenge for survival...damn bandits” She explained as she escorted me back into the main bar area.

Pointing to the exit, “Now, if that’s all you wanted, take your gorgeous ass, and get out of my bar.”   

“Thanks for everything Moxxi.” I winked, keeping it casual as not to make my indiscretion so blatant. Just as I turned to leave, she tapped my shoulder, “Didn’t mean no offense sugar, but you military types are bad for business.” She whispered, and paused for a moment to look me over and bit her bottom lip, “When you’re not working though, come back and see me. I’d love to show you some more of my goods. I’ll be sure to always have a little something to wet that sweet tongue of yours.”

I blushed and nodded “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll keep that in mind.” and I rallied my team to follow me, and on the way I messaged the LT that we were ready to move out.

Reznikov was watching the exchange and knew exactly what had happened. I could tell she was going to give me hell over that for weeks, when she nudged me in the side and gave a mischievous sideways grin.

Lieutenant Fierro didn’t get much information out of Meriff, so the only thing we had to go on was what Moxxi had given us. Again we split into two teams to investigate these leads, the LT took Alpha team to Vorago Solitude to look into this supposed Prothean ruin that Col. Zarpedon was digging around in, and I took Bravo team to The Drakensburg.

 


	9. Borderland II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion of crossover. Enjoy!

2175 – Phoenix Massing/Pandora-Elpis

Despite their illegal activities, this Dahl company, had some very advanced kinetic and digital technology, though I would rather deal with illegal tech than illegal biological experimentation and all of those horrors with organizations like Cerberus.

We fought through several bandit camps on the way to the Outlands Spur, some of which were using modded laser weapons that our kinetic barriers had not been programmed to deflect, causing some minor burn injuries, but nothing that some medi-gel couldn’t handle. I picked up several of these weapons from fallen enemy combatants to take back to the ship for analysis, hoping we can use this technology in the Alliance.

When The Drakensburg was within sight, we spotted Dahl forces surrounding the perimeter. As much as I favor a frontal assault, I knew that stealth would be necessary for my small team to infiltrate the ship to identify the AI and the threat it posed.

My team was composed of two engineers, three soldiers, and myself a vanguard. I was confident that my team could handle themselves with minor combat, but we were greatly outnumbered, and deep within the enemy territory. Reznikov enabled tactical cloaking to go undetected into a cracked bulkhead opening to determine if it was safe to enter. When she gave the signal, we entered, but up from behind Reznikov a security officer approached and I threw a stasis, then walked over and snapped his neck. It was a necessary, if not gruesome, solution to get past him, in order to access the service tunnel below the deck.

The Drakensburg was full of Dahl soldiers on some level of alert, but they had not yet become aware of our presence—the bandit problem was a very big problem on this moon, it made sense why they would hire an Alliance mercenary.

Once inside the engine compartment, we gained direct access to reach the information hub that would help us locate the AI core. When we came upon a terminal beneath the Command Center, I had Reznikov link her omni-tool with the ship’s portal. Instantly, the ship’s alarms began to sound, and a feminine voice came over the intercom “Alert. Alert. Intruders attempting to hack the mainframe.”

“Shit! Reznikov, what happened? Do they know where we are?” I demanded, knowing that we tipped the security. 

“No, it’s just a standard alert message the ship’s computer sends out when it detects infiltration. Don’t worry yet, I’m still in the system, but they’re probably trying to track us. Let me put up some firewalls.” Reznikov explained, entering commands through her omni-tool. 

“Miller, Santos, guard the rear, I’ll take the front. Noor, Excelsior, stay with Reznikov, help her get what we need and get out of there, on the double!” I barked my orders, and readied my shotgun, with fired up barriers, in preparation of an imminent ambush. I had just gotten into position when I heard Reznikov shout, “Got it!”, and I messaged my squad to regroup on my position.

Together we reviewed the intel gathered, “Looks like they do have an AI, and it is stored just beyond here in a massive chamber. I also gathered some interesting research documents that might be useful. Seems they’ve been developing some elemental weaponry.”

“Good work, Marines. Now, can we get into the chamber without being detected?” I asked, knowing that we would not be able to take on the entire ship of Dahl soldiers, without getting killed or being captured.

“It doesn’t look like it Gunny. The Command Center is crawling with troops, and even if we get past them, that AI core is heavily fortified and booby trapped to incapacitate anyone not authorized to be in there.” Excelsior explained, pointing to the schematics of the ship.

“Dammit.” I muttered, the alarms still blaring and soldiers moving above us, it was difficult to think. I messaged the LT and let him know that the presence of the AI was confirmed and awaited further instructions.

It didn’t take her long to reply, giving us orders to destroy the AI and indicated that negotiations with Zarpedon had become hostile. I smiled at the thought of bringing down this massive ship, if there was one thing I had learned in my biotic training, it was that blowing things up was a _lot_ of fun.

“Reznikov, what is the most vulnerable point on this ship to destroy the AI core’s defenses and disable the ship?” I asked, reaching into my satchel to ready some explosive charges. 

“It is usually the ship’s warp core, though a blast like that, would level anything within a 2 kilometer radius. It’s not a very tactical option, except as a last resort.” Reznikov offered, somewhat sarcastically.

“So let’s just bang it up a little bit, and not completely destroy it. That way the ship is disabled and the AI goes down, and mission accomplished.” I explained, pointing to the hull and the engine compartment on the schematic. 

“Sounds like a plan, Shepard. Let’s do it!” Reznikov exclaimed.

We backtracked through the ship, and covertly slipped through the patrols in order to gain access to the vulnerable points that we needed to plant the charges. The others had already proceeded up toward the exit and I had taken Private Miller with me to set the last charge inside the warp core. Just as I had prepped the charge, Private Miller was detected while standing guard, and over the sound of gun fire I shouted, “Get to cover!” throwing a singularity at the troops who had opened fire, but not before they hit him with two rounds of heavily modded shotgun munitions, ripping through his shields and mangling his hands, legs and torso.

I reinforced my barrier to run over to him, and pulled him behind the wall that provided some cover, while I applied medi-gel and depressed a compression pack into his torn femoral artery. “Fuck, Miller. Hang in there! We’re going to get you out of here.” I consoled, with slippery hands finding surgical precision in to save this man’s life. He was screaming in pain, terrified at the blood he was losing, the bones exposed in his hands only amplifying the shock when he looked at his body. I held him up, fortifying a barrier surrounding us, while providing cover fire with my shotgun.

“Reznikov! A little help here!?” I shouted up to her, while I prepared to lift him up to the others through the vent shaft. It would be easier to get myself out of enemy fire than for me to try to drag him and myself through heavy enemy forces. I charged another medi-gel for him, and biotically lifted his limp body up to the rest of my team. They grabbed him and motioned that they were going to go ahead to the rendezvous point.

I was furious, so I added another charge to the hull for good measure, and to get a little retribution for what they did to my Private.

With my barriers charged up, I readied dual-wield pistols modded with anti-personnel rounds, and I peeked out the opening to see what I was up against. The room had filled with Dahl forces, most of them were taking cover behind the large cargo crates, some still coming in through the front opening. Those ones had to be my first target, if I was going to get out of here alive, I needed to slow down their proximity to me.

I launched a singularity to the opening, catching five Dahl soldiers in its force, then I used a lift and moved some crates in front of the opening. I was under a barrage of fire, though at range, they had very poor aim because not a single bullet was absorbed by my barrier. I looked around the room, and realized that the way I came in was still open, so rolled out of my cover, and into a more strategic point, so that I could make a run for the exit when cleared.

Some Dahl ground troops came for me, but I hit them with a warp/throw biotic explosion, but then as luck would have it, they brought out the snipers. My kinetic shields were more equipped to withstand their sniper fire than my biotic barriers, but on the other hand my biotic barriers absorbed the elemental damage better than my kinetic barriers, though neither would withstand any constant assault  

I knew that I would not last much longer if I didn’t get out soon. With a deep breath, I gritted teeth and threw a grenade into their mass followed by a singularity, and with them disoriented I fired my Carnifex Hand Canons into any Dahl soldier unlucky enough to get caught in my barrage, while I attempted for the exit.

I ducked behind crates and machinery, my shields deflecting any stray bullets, as I made it back into the service corridor. I sprinted toward the hatch, focusing the reserves of my biotics into my failing barriers, and into my burning lungs and to legs to carry me as fast as possible. 

The Dahl soldiers followed swiftly behind, their bullets flying all around me. My heart was pounding, and adrenaline pumping hard into my nervous system so much in fact that I didn’t even feel the burning flesh of the corrosive sniper bullet catching my shoulder and grazing my jaw. Another inch and it would have done some serious damage—but like I said, these guys had terrible aim…must have been the hypoxia.

When I reached the door, I fell back allowing gravity to propel me forward while sliding, and in doing so I looked back, firing while firing my dual wielded Carnifex hand canons. I tore into them, spraying blood and carbonite armor bits behind. I slid into the door and kicked it open, and landed feet on the ground. I continued firing into the docked ship, running to my rendezvous point, hoping that Reznikov had already summoned our rescue shuttle.

I leaped over an ice-covered boulder, and ran down the rocky side of a small cliff, kicking up dust and small stones. I could see the transport about 100 meters away, when the Dahl soldiers had reached the cliff side and begun firing after me, bullets landing beside me, the impact knocking dirt and ice into my face. I knew that running directly toward the landing zone made me an easy target, even with their bad aim, so I launched myself outward with biotic force to push off, and turned around to fire back at the Dahl soldiers flying backward through the air—my aim far superior to theirs, even under these conditions, I got in a headshot and two hits to the gut.

I landed with one leg back, to skid into the impact of the ground, while the rest of my body maintained its orientation to keep firing on the enemy. Noor and Santos joined in to provide cover fire for me while I climbed aboard the shuttle, and Excelsior was tending to Miller while Reznikov piloted our shuttle.

“Let’s get out of here!” I shouted. The rescue vehicle lifted off, and I accessed the demolition charges signal through my omni-tool. The hatch was still open and I leaned out to watch as I initiated the charges to explode. I heard the low growl of the inside of the ship being torn apart, before seeing the front hull of The Drakensburg explode in orange flames, followed by blue-green discharge of energy, from the mass effect core, that reached into the sky like lightning bolts. _If that explosion didn’t take out the AI, nothing will._ I decided, before turning my attention back to my team and checking in with the squad leader.

I watched my pair of Marines working on Miller. He didn’t look like he was going to make it, he had lost too much blood, and his injuries were looking more grave than they had in the battle. I had never lost anyone under my command at that point, and seeing him bleeding out like that, despite multiple applications of medi-gel and cauterization attempts. I was helpless to save him, and it is impossible to put into words, what it is like to watch someone you’re tasked with leading…watching your Marine…die. I wanted revenge.

When I got no response from the Lieutenant, I ordered the shuttle pilot to take us to Alpha team’s position. Upon arrival, it was clear that Alpha team had been in a ground fight for some time, and they were cornered up against a cliff, with the enemy completely surrounding them. Like a cat torturing a mouse, it seemed that Dahl was playing a waiting game rather than bringing out the big guns.

“Santos, get on the turret, and hold the enemy back! Reznikov, you’re with me, we’re going to rappel down and flank them. Excelsior, take over the flight controls and maintain an altitude of 1000 feet and await further orders” I commanded, applying medi-gel to my injured shoulder, and checking my weapons to ensure they were ready for this next fight.

I attached myself to the rappel rope, and belayed myself down behind the burning charred remains of the Alliance aircraft that Alpha team had arrived in, Reznikov following directly behind me.

“Okay, we’re going to have to amplify one another’s attacks. When I use biotics, you use tech, and we both shoot the shit out of them. Got it?” I explained, knowing that since Reznikov and I have known each other for so many years that intuitively reading my body language would aid in our tactics. I could have taken Excelsior and kept Reznikov in the sky, but I knew that we could pull this off better than anyone else on the squad—maybe I showed her preferential treatment, I’ve been accused of doing as much on several occasions in the course of my career, but I stand by my decision that she was the best man for the job.

“Combos for the win, Shepard! I’m with you!” Reznikov enthusiastically affirmed, raising her hand for a high-five. I slapped her hand and let out a deafening war cry, as we launched ourselves from cover. Between tech/biotics, and ballistic assault, they didn’t stand a chance. I released a singularity into a huddled group of Dahl, as we ran for a trench. She shot an overload into it, disrupting their shields, while I prepared a warp which would mangle and shred them in a biotic explosion.

Once we made it into cover by way of the now-empty trench, it gave us a direct and discrete path to get closer to Alpha team, who from the looks of things were down two Marines. Then, just my luck, Dahl finally brought out some heavy weapons, and soldiers with jet packs to fire from overhead, making us sitting ducks for their multi-dimensional flank. 

“Follow me!” I shouted, knowing that without well placed sniper fire we would not be able to defend this position from the aerial assault. We ran for a rickety bridge, that would allow us to change weapons and develop identify a strategy.

Reznikov prepared her sniper rifle, and I readied my shotgun, then we looked at one another and nodded. It was implied that I would take out the ground forces and distract them from her, while she took out the air soldiers, and we could clear a path to Alpha team, and regroup.

I reinforced my barriers, and launched out from the trench in a rampage toward a solo Dahl soldier. I hit him with a stasis and ducked behind him, using his artificially stiffened body to absorb the bullets directed at me. With a swift motion, I rolled out from behind him toward a large chunk of ice, firing my radiation modded shotgun into the Dahl soldiers that were rushing toward me. Every impact melted their armor and ate into flesh in an assault that would not stop and paralyzed them in screaming agony while their comrades pushed forward.

Alpha team was down to one gunman and suppressing fire as best they could from the left flank, and while Reznikov was finishing off the last of the jetpack fighters, I took on the frontal assault. Even outnumbering us 5:1 I was able to take out 7 Dahl soldiers, before they destroyed my ice shield.

I sprinted toward the trench where Alpha team was pinned down. Upon reaching them, I saw two dead bodies lying on the ground, among them, Lieutenant Fierro. The last soldier standing was Gunnery Chief Maslow, who was also bloody and apparently gravely injured with a busted omni-tool that was scorching his skin with sparks.

“Shepard, there’s too many of them, we have to get out of here! Call for reinforcements! They’ve stumbled across of some kind of Prothean vault, we can’t let them keep control of this area.” The battered Marine pleaded.

“On it, Gunny!” I said, accessing my omni-tool to send a message back to the Tripoli.

“In the meantime, let’s take out as many of these bastards as we can!” Gunny Maslow shouted, launching a grenade into the forward trench and blowing two Dahl soldiers out, shooting them as they flew through the air.

Santos was still gunning from the transport ship taking out the reinforcements as they came in, while the rest of us laid out as many combos as we could on those soldiers stupid, er, brave enough to step out into our sights.

Within about 10 minutes, reinforcements finally arrived, using tactical missile strikes and machine gun fire to finish off the remaining Dahl troops. When we emerged and secured the area, Zarpedon’s body was nowhere to be found, apparently having made her escape during the battle. I knew she wouldn’t get far though; the Alliance would make themselves a more permanent presence on this moon after finding a Prothean ruin.

**  
**


	10. Skyllian Blitz I

2176 – Vetus System/Elysium

War is hell. All types of it. The ones who have made the sacrificial commitment to their fellow man, the burning drive to stop evil-doers, those who are willing to go fight these battles are distinguished with the honor of being a veteran. Should one these veterans save the day through miraculous feats of valor and bravery, they may be applauded as a "War Hero" …and if they were so unlucky that everyone around them died, and while against all odds they alone emerged victorious over the enemy, may be deemed a "Sole Survivor"…but sometimes, when sacrificing a few is necessary to save a great many, the veteran becomes infamously "Ruthless".

We had a funeral service for Lieutenant Fierro, Miller, and the others. Placards with their name and rank, were attached to the hull of the ship, aft of the combat information center, for their sacrifice to never be forgotten by the crew—so long as this ship serves, their souls will forever be a part of it. My failure to get Miller in and out alive was a bitter introduction to leadership of combat Marines. I can’t say the first was the worst, but it was not a reality that was easy to accept either.

Myself, Reznikov, Santos, Noor, Excelsior, and Maslow were awarded The Golden Star of Valor, for beating the odds, displaying exceptional gallantry and bravery, and advancing humanity’s interests abroad. Feeling particularly badass for a successful mission, despite losing a Marine, I decided to see how far I could push my luck. I sent in an application to N-School, though I didn’t expect to get in, not anytime soon at least, since most people typically wait 3-7 years before getting invited to The Villa—assuming they qualify in the first place.

Aboard the Tripoli, we were something like heroes, because it is not every day that someone stumbles across Prothean ruins, no matter what their race. In case you've been living under a rock, and have no idea what I'm talking about—what makes Prothean ruins so special, is that they were a hyper-advanced race of aliens, who suddenly went extinct 50,000 years ago, and the discovery of their remnant technology has allowed for great leaps in advancement for any species who comes across them.

It was the result of finding a Prothean ruin on Mars that enabled us humans to enter galactic space-flight. Consequentially, once a species is accepted into the sphere of influence within the Citadel, it is a high crime, with the most serious consequences, to hide these coveted discoveries. It goes without saying that the discoveries often take a while to be reported to Citadel authorities, this is to ensure a slight advantage over the others when the technology is shared.

After the Alliance stationed themselves on Elpis and our presence was no longer necessary to protect the ruins, the Tripoli reported back to home port at Arcturus Station, where Admiral Dawson of the Fourth Fleet personally awarded the Tripoli's entire crew with a coveted Distinguished Unit Citation—or the DUC (Duck award), is typically given when the assistance of the entire unit is necessary to provide sufficient support to defeat an enemy, and as a result of the victory, the balance was tipped in favor of the Alliance in some significant way.

I even received a vidcom call from my mother, congratulating me on a job well-done and making her proud, I guess news had spread quickly about our lucky discovery. Anyway, we were all proud of ourselves, and as a special pat on the back, _err_ , ‘commendation’ for our going 'above and beyond the call of duty' with the successful operation on Elpis, the six of us were given two weeks of shore leave with a free pass to stay at an Alliance sponsored resort on Elysium, a tropical planet in the Skyllian Verge—it was one of humanity’s first, and most popular colonies.

I was looking forward to some shore leave, it had been three years since I had taken a real vacation. I was looking for some good entertainment, booze, and R&R. The shore-leave I had taken in the previous years were more along the line of stay-cations, limited to the colonies we were defending, and unfortunately they were so unstable, it seemed more like doing a security tour than a vacation.

Gunnery Chief Maslow was still recovering from his injuries, so he intended to wait to use his leave, and he was having a lot of grief over losing his entire squad, including the Lt., so he was probably not even cleared by psych anyway. Service Chief Noor also wanted to wait to cash in his leave, since his girlfriend was also in the Alliance they wanted to line their leave time up so that they might go to Elysium together. So it was the four of us from my squad, and we all left together on an Alliance shuttle, to the relay station where we caught a civilian transport to Elysium.

"So Shepard, ever been to Elysium?" Reznikov asked me.

"Nope, never. Heard about it being a hot-spot for tourism, but can't say I've ever been." I replied, lifting my head up from an article I was reading on a datapad, "Have you?"

"Actually, when my parents were stationed on the Second Fleet’s Harlowe Station, orbiting Sidon. I can remember my parents taking vacations to Elysium pretty often—though I was just a small child." Reznikov recalled, "It is actually a very beautiful place, and there’s a lot of bustle. My parents hated having to leave, and spoke fondly of this post, even though Sidon was pretty awful."

"If its half of what they promote it as, I know we’re going to have a good time." I sheepishly smiled, knowing that finding a bar is at the top of my agenda.

There was just something about that tradition of experiencing the coming-of-age drinking party that I missed out on during my tours on Alliance ships, and wanted to make up for on this shore leave.

"Shepard, with you, I am sure it will be unforgettable!" Reznikov laughed.

I shot a hairy eyeball, “What are you getting at, Reznikov? Are you calling me a trouble-maker?”

“No. Never…” She said stoically, trying to hold back her laugh, but only for a moment before it burst out.

“I’m not sure I believe you.” I mused, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. 

When we landed at the docking bay of the station orbiting Elysium, we were interrogated and screened thoroughly. The security was very tight on this colony, which probably contributed to its attractiveness to settlers and tourists alike, nobody could even enter the atmosphere without undergoing clearances.

Once we were given go-ahead to proceed, we caught another transport to the surface. Upon breaking through the clouds, it was clear that away from the towering city buildings, this was a tropical planet with lush forests, and vast oceans. It reminded me of vids I had seen of Earth in school—this also added to the desirability of this colony. Its founder, Jon Grissom, was looking for a home away from home to retire, and so he found it.

From the spaceport, we caught a taxi to the Newton Resort where we had reservations. There were shops, a massive hotel, and so many amenities it would have taken the entirety of two weeks to see them all. The entire resort was an exemplification of luxury, the façade complete with a waterfall, magnificently rising up behind it, and a massive lake beside it, and nestled right outside the city.

Watching out the window, Excelsior marveled, "It looks like the Alliance was really impressed with our work, for them to go out of their way in sending us to this place!"

Realistically I wanted to abstain from romanticizing the Alliance's intentions. "We really kicked some ass back there…but I think this had more to do with what we found, than what we did."

"Well whatever it was, I'm not complaining. This is amazing!" Reznikov gleamed, grinning from ear to ear. "Shepard, just imagine the beds. I bet they're extra soft, unlike the bunks that have been breaking my back for the last 4 years." She sighed. "Long showers, and even bath tubs…. I’ll never want to leave, I just know it."

"Whoa, slow down there. We’ve got to see what this place has to offer, before we even think about the relaxing part!" Santos interrupted, the idea of relaxation was enticing, but having a little fun to unwind suited him better.

"Alright, alright, Marines. Let's get our rooms squared away, and then you can decide on your plans.” I barked, needlessly taking charge of the conversation to stifle any chaos—this was an unforeseen consequence of going on leave with my squad. 

When we arrived at the Newton Resort, Anke stopped me, “I have heard about a strip close to here, called the Nye Quarter, and from what I understand there’s a lot to do. I’d be willing to check it out with you, after we get settled, if you want?”

I knew that she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to have a good time, “Sounds like a plan!” I affirmed, “Meet me at my room when you’re ready, and we’ll light up the town.”

We checked in and got our rooms easily enough, they were beside one another, which was convenient. I took a quick shower, but made a promise to the whirlpool in my room, that I would get to know her more intimately before I leave here. I applied some light makeup, and dressed in form-fitting black slacks, a green blouse that accented my emerald-colored eyes, and I let my long auburn hair down out of my tight military-style bun. When the situation calls for it, I will wear a little cocktail dress, but I wasn’t looking for a piece of ass, I just wanted to let loose and have a little fun.

So now you know what I looked like back then. I was standing in front of the mirror making sure my outfit was presentable when I heard a knock at the door.

"You ready to party, Shepard?" Reznikov beamed. She was slightly shorter than me, with long blonde hair and sapphire eyes. The black jeans and blue tank-top she was wearing, revealed that she had the same idea as me, and the top priority was getting drunk enough to forget about the last three years of colony sercurity and mercenary encounters.

"I was born ready! Let's do this!" I exclaimed, and we headed down toward the town. The resort was luxurious, and nicer than anything my mother had taken me to on colony visits. Not to mention, traipsing around with my best friend, was completely different than taking leave with my mother, for obvious reasons.

I sent Excelsior and Santos a message, letting them know we would be headed for the Nye strip if they wanted to find us. I had been craving a steak for about a year and a half—there are some things that once you get a craving for that cannot be satisfied, and become almost an obsession. I had been limited to space-faring rations, and unfortunately that does not include thick slabs of beef.  

The strip wasn’t far from the resort, just a short cab ride away, and we asked the driver, since he was more familiar with the area, to take us to the best steak-house. We didn’t wait long for the other two to join us, and with an uncounted amount of beer, we carnivorously devoured our meals. Once we were adequately buzzed, and our appetites sated, we decided to explore the other attractions nearby.

There were plenty of nightclubs and dive bars to choose from, and the thing that piqued our interest was an adult arcade. We decided to engage in a drinking game, where we would play the Shooter for Shots. My virtual weapon of choice was the shotgun, if there was one weapon I had mastered with the Alliance Marines it was the shotgun, and of course Reznikov chose the sniper rifle. We agreed on the Rachni mission, to see who could obtain the most points in 90 seconds, without getting killed. For each mission lost, the acquiescing loser had to down either a glass of Titan beer or a shot of Noverian rum— both of which were designed to temporarily bind to DNA, which produced superior intoxication, without risk of hangover or alcohol poisoning.

Despite my best efforts, Reznikov was beating me 5:2, and with my bearings being rapidly eroded by the alcohol, she was sure to maintain her lead. I decided it was time to pull out the big guns, and so I changed the rules, the winner of the next round would have to drink a double.

Sure enough, the round was tied, putting the score up 6:3. "Dammit Reznikov, how am I supposed to get you drunk, when you keep kicking my ass like that?" I bellowed poking her in the arm.

"I must admit, I expected better from you, Shepard." She laughed, returning a sharp poke to my arm.

"My weapon was glitching, it was clearly rigged against me." I retorted jokingly, unwilling to admit defeat.

Behind us, Santos and Excelsior were playing a game of billiards. We watched them knock the balls about, for a couple minutes before growing entirely bored. As my mind began to wander, I noticed a nightclub across the street with a live band; the rhythm of the bass line in the music was barely audible, but loud enough to draw me in. "Hey Reznikov, let's check out the band?" I asked.

She shrugged “Ok, sure.”

“We will be across the street watching the band, if one of you finally wins this game, and you want to join us.” I mused.

They acknowledged us with a thumbs up, and Excelsior said, “Don’t wait on us.” indicating they were probably going to be there a while.

We walked across the street to the danky bar, and to my surprise, there were several smokers toking on their preferential substances. I closed my eyes and inhaled, allowing the sweet aromas to fill my lungs—smoking was strictly prohibited aboard Alliance spacecraft, so the few times I had experienced the pleasure of this type of intoxication, was limited to colonies like this.

Already heavily inebriated, I headed straight for the dance floor, Reznikov split up with me and took a seat at a table, where she ordered another drink and sat back to watch me entertain myself. I gestured that she should join me, and she waved back in refusal that she wasn't interested in dancing.

Feeling somewhat disappointed, but too drunk to really care, I danced alone among the other patrons to the electronic groove. My hips were swaying, arms and legs, neck and shoulders, all of my body, moving to a rhythm that was not planned or coordinated, but decided upon by the music itself—I had never been formally trained to dance, so it was really just a volition that I had little control over.

After a few songs, my throat was getting dry, and so I went to get a drink. Sitting at the bar was a middle-aged gentleman, wearing an expensive suit, with a fat brown cigar in hand, and he watched as I approached, and leaned over to speak with me when I arrived at the bar, "Nice moves back there. Can I offer you a drink?" He asked, presumably unaware that it is creepy to just sit and watch a stranger—but maybe he was just that bold.

"You liked that, huh?” I smirked, at his attempt at flattery.

"So, what are you drinking?" he insisted.

"Beer. But my friend needs one too." I said, pointing back to Reznikov, who was watching me from the table.

"Oh, are the two of you together?" He asked, the implication laden in his voice.

I winced, and looked at him sideways, "Obviously."

"Then allow me to show my appreciation to you and your partner. It was a pleasure watching you enjoy the music." He offered, charmingly.

"If that’s what you want to do. Thanks, I guess." I replied, suspecting it would be rude to refuse his offer.

He accompanied me back to the table, Reznikov seemed surprised that I had brought him along, but smiled graciously and introduced herself. "Hello sir, I'm Reznikov, Alliance Marines. And who might you be?"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, "It's a pleasure miss. Just call me Jack." He didn’t wait for an invitation before taking a seat, "So you two are with the Alliance?"

"Yep, we were just enjoying a little shore leave at this great establishment." Reznikov answered.

"Sure is a great place!" I injected, raising my bottle to cheer with my comrade.

"So, what brings you here, Jack?" Reznikov asked, after clanking my beer with hers.

"I'm here on Elysium for business. I always come to this strip when I'm here, just to see the latest and greatest that humanity is offering. I never leave unimpressed, and that continues to hold true thanks to meeting you lovely ladies tonight." He explained, and I couldn’t tell if it was just flattery or smarminess, but he seemed experienced in this type of approach, nonetheless.

"There are definitely some amazing things to see and do. My favorite so far is watching Shepard trying to dance… Well, it tops my list of interesting things, anyhow." Reznikov laughed. She had no room to of course; at least I was brave enough to be up there dancing. I shot a mocking glare at her, and took a swig of my beer.

He smiled at me with an uncertain look, "Shepard, huh?” Then turned his attention back to my friend, "Of course, I too couldn’t help but to admire her _graceful_ talent. I hope you didn't mind." Jack admitted.

"Mind? Why would I mind? Shepard likes to live fast and loose, and she's my best friend, whatever makes her happy is alright with me… Too bad for you though, if you happened to be a slutty bartender, she probably wouldn’t mind looking at you either." She explained, with an overly-dramatized wink.

She was running interference like a true friend would when an unwelcome suitor came to call. Her words really tugged at my heart strings, Reznikov was truly my best friend, and she had come to know me over the years like nobody else…I suppose I considered her the sister I never had.

“Sounds to me that Shepard likes to have a good time, but what about you, Anke, do you like to have a good time?" He asked, leaning forward in his chair, sipping an amber-colored liquor from a rocks glass.

"I'm here, aren't I?" She astutely answered.

Whatever he was trying to offer, she wasn't buying it. That was just Reznikov though, she hadn't ever really shown any interest in dating, or casual sex, or anything along those lines. She dedicated her life to the Alliance—but, I can't claim to be any different, even having a little fun on the side, I never committed myself to anything serious that would distract me from my duties—that is, of course until later.

He smiled and finished off his drink, "Well ladies, it is getting rather late, so I will leave you to enjoy each other's company. If you're still around tomorrow, I encourage you to catch the show at Freedom Theatre over in Illyria. The performance is about the First Contact War, it has sold out, but since you’re with the Alliance, I’m sure they'll find a way to let you in, and it will be right up your alley, being Marines and all." He stood from his chair and bowed his head, "Ladies, it has been a pleasure. Until we meet again, good night."

Reznikov looked over to me, "You're like a magnet, Shepard. Has anyone ever told you that?" she laughed.

"What can I say? When you’ve got moves like mine, people can’t help but watch.” I shrugged with a crooked smile.

She let out a guttural laugh in response to my boisterousness, "Oh, you're so full of it!"

It was indeed quite late, and the band had stopped playing, so when we finished our beers, we decided it was time to take our little party back to the hotel. Reznikov sent Santos and Excelsior a message to inform them of our plans, and they indicated that they would be joining us a little later, because Santos had lost a lot of credits to Chief Excelsior in the Newton casino, and he wanted to try to win them back.

Upon arriving back at the hotel, at Reznikov’s insistence, we purchased a bottle of Noverian rum from the lounge, and headed up to my room to enjoy a splash in the whirlpool.

I stripped down to my bra and panties, figuring that Reznikov wouldn’t mind seeing me in my skivvies, since we had to use the communal shower together aboard the Tripoli. But when I emerged from the restroom in my underwear I saw Reznikov completely naked and already in the tub.

“So that’s the kind of party we’re having?” I chuckled with an arched eyebrow.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked over to me, “Is there some other way to enjoy a whirlpool? Unless…that is…I’m making you uncomfortable, Shepard?” Reznikov teased wriggling her eyebrows as she took a sip from her tall glass of rum.

“Well, now that you mention it. No, I don’t think there is any other way to enjoy a whirlpool.” I grinned and removed the remainder of my clothing, and walked across the room naked to fill my own glass with rum.

I lowered my feet and slowly the rest of my body slid into the hot tub. The steamy water penetrated every taut muscle I had, and a deep unconscious moan escaped my lips when I felt the years of brutality I had subjected my body to with the Marines, melting away. I leaned back against a water jet that was pulsating against my back, and closed my eyes. I drifted away in my mind, while the relaxation washed over me, and was completely tuned out to everything, allowing the sensation to consume me. I think it may have been better than some of the sex I’ve had—just throwing that out there.

“This is nice.” I muttered, pulling the cold glass of rum to my lips.

The next thing I knew, there was a buzz at the door, followed by “Hey are you guys still awake?”

Reznikov let a sigh, “Someone should let them in.”

“Yeah. I guess someone should.” I replied, neither of us wanting to remove ourselves from the serenity of the tub in order to do so.

“How about whoever comes up first from holding their breath underwater has to do it?” She suggested.

“Alright, deal.” I said, squeezing my fingers over my nose to avoid the water from burning my sinuses.

We nodded at each other, and plunged into the hot water. Swimming was never my strong suit, but Reznikov had been beating me at everything this evening, so I was determined to be victorious, even when the oxygen in my lungs was burning in my chest and throat, begging for replenishment. I was ready to give up when I heard Reznikov splash up gasping for air, and I immediately followed. “Ha! I win this one!” I gasped, eliciting a disappointed glare from Reznikov.

She got out of the tub, and wrapped her lower-half in a towel to answer the door. Maslow and Santos entered and smirked at the seeing Reznikov barely wearing anything, but she didn’t linger for them to stare, instead she turned to prepared herself another glass of rum.

Santos turned to Excelsior, “Looks like they got started without us.”

Reznikov glanced over to them, before returning her attention to making a drink, “You’re welcome to join us.” she offered then returned to the tub, removing her towel with one quick gesture and laying it off to the side.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Santos said, as he quickly began disrobing, his grin scantily hidden behind eagerness.

Excelsior shook his head at the Private’s unabashed response to the invitation, and walked to the wet bar to investigate the alcohol situation, “I think I’ll pass. Not sure how I would explain to my wife that I spent shore leave in a hot tub naked with two women and another man.”

“That’s your loss, Chief.” Santos mused, as he pushed the last article of clothing down his legs, and headed for the tub.

The young Marine let a deep sigh, as his body adjusted to the water therapy that was washing over him.  “Chief, you’re really missing out on something amazing.” 

Excelsior rolled his eyes and smiled while he prepared himself a drink.

“I didn’t know you were married, Excelsior.” I injected. There were only about 40 crewmen aboard the Tripoli, but it still made a difficult task getting to know each one personally.

“Yep, for a little over a year. We dated about four though. She’s Alliance too, stationed aboard the Agincourt. They actually patrol in this system, and I would have much rather taken this leave with her, but we’ve been here a few times already. Hopefully though, she is going to try to catch a transport and see me for a few hours before we have to head out.” He answered.

“Sounds like you’ve got some plans, Chief.” Santos snickered.

“All I’m saying is, the ‘do not disturb’ sign will be posted on my door.” Excelsior said, taking a seat on a bar stool.

“Get some Chief!” Santos shouted, holding his glass in the air for a cheer, and took a gulp.

“Marriage isn’t for me. I mean, maybe one day, but for now I just want to Captain Kirk my way across the galaxy” I said without any uncertainty.

“If that’s what you’re doing, Gunny…ever been with a hanar?” Santos asked, beaming with curiosity and/or pride.

“Oh for fucks sake, was that really necessary? Now I feel dirty for sharing a tub with you.” Reznikov spat, emerging from her relaxed-trance.

“Don’t knock it until you try it, Reznikov.” I added, and shot an accepting smiling at Santos. Just to be clear, I hadn’t gotten that notch on my belt yet, but there is no telling what a night of Ryncol and an inter-species brothel might lead to.

“Thanks Shepard. Now I feel absolutely disgusting.” Reznikov grimaced, but it must not have bothered her too much, because she closed her eyes again to enjoy the high-pressure jets penetrating deep into her back muscles.

“That’s what being young in the Alliance is all about. Before my wife and I got together, I had my fill on what the galaxy is offering young Marines during shore leave. But I have to admit Santos, I definitely passed up on the Hanar’s Fornication Emporium, and don’t regret it a bit.” Chief Excelsior offered.

“What can I say? You just keep missing out, Chief.” Santos laughed.

Excelsior rolled his eyes, “What about you, Reznikov. We now know that Shepard and Santos are a couple of freaks. Anyone waiting on you somewhere?” he asked.

“Nope, I’m married to the Corps, and she’s a spiteful, jealous, bitch.” Reznikov avowed, taking another swallow from her sweating glass of cold liquor.

“Ain’t that the truth.” I added. I didn’t understand how some Marines could anchor themselves to a partner, always separated, never far from imminent danger, uncertain if the last time you see them is truly the last… It was better to just accept that romance is an afterthought to service.

**  
**


	11. Skyllian Blitz II

2176 – Vetus System/Elysium/Newton Resort

The next morning, I awoke with the rising sun, and it was a unique change to the artificial ambience on the Tripoli, that was produced for us to not lose track of time.

The natural light was warm with the photons hitting my face, and dust particles glittered in the air, and I stood on my room’s balcony, allowing the early morning mist to settle on my face, with my eyes closed, while I breathed in the fresh Elysium air.

The serenity provided me with a rare opportunity to engage in a biotic meditation, and so I sat on the dew-covered floor, assumed my posture, and engaged my mind to delve into a level of self-awareness never touched upon by the Alliance, but among endowed through the first lessons taught to me by my asari biotics instructor. The L3 amplifier allowed my biotics to produce a glowing sheath that encapsulated over my body, which had not been present when I mediated prior to being modded in specialization training.

After I had finished with my often-neglected ritual, I took a quick shower, and headed down to get breakfast. Excelsior and Reznikov were already seated and devouring their meals, so I waved to them in acknowledgement and headed over to the spread of multi-cultural high-protein breakfast items, most of which appeared rather unappealing, so I grabbed two slices of bread and a boiled egg, to go with a black coffee, and proceeded to meet with my teammates.

“Morning Gunny, glad you could join us. Santos is sleeping in, apparently; last night’s activities must have depleted the Private’s resources.” Excelsior said sarcastically.

“It takes practice to get an iron gut, Chief.” Reznikov defended for the absent Marine.

“Yep, I remember my first few shore leaves, I couldn’t think straight for days.” I added, taking a drink of my coffee, wincing when the hot-liquid burnt my tongue slightly.

Meals finished, Reznikov and I decided we should investigate some of what the resort was offering. In addition to making appointments with the spa, that was booked out for a few days, we did a little shopping, since neither of us had many civilian clothes, it fun seeing myself in the dressing room, wearing the strange, but sometimes flattering apparel.

We spent the day like that, just exploring the colony and wasting our hard-earned credits on luxuries that we didn’t have aboard the Tripoli. For lunch we ate at an asari restaurant where every meal on the menu was some kind of saccharine delicacy, even the goat entrée was smothered in syrup. I decided it was an asari stereotype of humans, and the asari must have attributed that into their cuisine based on our taste for sweets, because there was nothing of that sort at the asari restaurants on Illium.

After a quick dip in the pool, we returned to our rooms for a shower and to dress up in our dress blues for the First Contact War show. We met up with Excelsior and Santos in the lobby of the hotel, the arts weren’t really my thing, but since it was sold out, and about Marines, at least it would be an experience to share with my squad.

Disappointingly, I didn’t have an opportunity to get my blues pressed since our award ceremony, but they didn’t look _bad_ , and I was probably the only one who really even cared about a starched crease…or at least I had hoped that was the case.

Surely enough, upon meeting with the rest of the party in the lobby, Chief Excelsior furrowed his brow, “Ensign Shepard. What regulation is it, that gives a Marine authorization for their uniform to have as many creases as the Marine sees fit?”

“Ooh-rah, Chief.” I quipped, with the Corps’ proper and affirmative jargon for ‘fuck you’.  

“Don’t feel bad Gunny, he gave me six degrees of hell for it too. At least he didn’t drop you to do push-ups.” Santos offered, though his jacket was considerably more wrinkled than my own. Reznikov and Excelsior shared the same rank, Service Chief, and they must have gotten their uniforms pressed immediately after the ceremony aboard the Tripoli.

I shot an insidious look to Reznikov, who was turning to show off that her uniform was perfectly pressed. “Over achievers…” I mumbled, with mock disappointment.

Freedom Theater was downtown in the city-proper, and so we had to take a taxi we were instructed to show our Alliance identification and provide them with authorization for our attendance to be recorded, and shared with third parties, which was fairly standard, any time the media was expected to be present. We all agreed, and since I was the highest ranking in our party, I gave my assenting signature.

We walked the short distance to the theatre taking in the now-familiar sights and taking mental notes of the attractions we would like to partake over the next several days.

Upon arrival, there was a line extending down the sidewalk to the theatre. Hundreds of people dressed in tuxedos, glittering gowns, and speckled in between them, were a few Alliance personnel. The theatre was massive in size, adorned with unique and luxurious architecture, intricate designs, fabricated upon rare and exotic metals and minerals. This was definitely one of the classiest facilities I had ever been to, and it still ranks among the top 10 that I have visited.

We made our way through the crowds, and were stopped by an usher who escorted us to a separate balcony, where we were met with five other Alliance service members on their own shore leave. We all shook hands, introducing ourselves, and took our seats. Once all of the seats were filled, and the loud chatter of the audience echoed throughout the theatre, the lights were dimmed, and the show began. The show started with holographic footage of Shanxi, and a human colonial family who were preparing to have dinner, when without warning, the Turians invaded, utterly destroying the colony, murdering the majority of the colonists. A 17-year-old boy, sole survivor of the family, goes off to join the Alliance, and lied about his age in order to enlist early. He is sent to the front lines with the Second Fleet immediately after Boot Camp, when the MSV Guadalcanal he is serving aboard comes under heavy enemy fire. The protagonist takes cover in the ship’s main battery, keeping the guns online when the ship’s drive core was disabled. I noticed then that the sound of bombs exploding, and gun fire had become all too real, then the entire building begins to rumble, plaster and dust falling from the ceiling.

The crowd didn’t seem to notice, but when I looked to Reznikov, apparently she felt it too. I raised an eyebrow to her, and she shrugged unknowingly about what had caused the rumble.

Santos became aware to my distraction, and leaned over to whisper “The special effects in this theatre are so awesome! Can you believe that they are actually creating these effects to go along with show?!”

What he said made as much sense as anything else, and it was actually kind of impressive that they had this technology. With the next boom, it became clear that we were not experiencing special effects, but real explosions that were shaking the building and causing the lights to flicker.

The crowd began to panic and commotion was taking over followed by the sound of gunfire coming much closer. The distinct rat-a-tat from an assault rifle, sounded like it was coming from directly behind us. I looked to Reznikov and then to Excelsior and said, “Alright Marines, we’ve got trouble. We’ve got to protect as many of these civilians as possible.” knowing that none of us had any weapons.

Reznikov jumped from her seat, and with her omni-tool, accessed the security panel at doorway to the balcony, in attempt to hack into the security footage for the building. I put up a biotic barrier, and Excelsior and Santos began investigating the situation from the hallway behind the balcony.

“Looks like Batarians.” Reznikov said, tilting her omni-tool to show me the footage, revealing their standard black batarian armor as were infiltrating the theatre.

“Those nasty green bastards don’t know when to quit, do they? They’re going to rue this day!” I snarled, flaring my biotics.

“They’re too stupid to have learned after the last time they tried bullshit like this with humanity…” Reznikov said, her voice trailing off, absent from her usual determination. “I think it’s the same slavers as Mindoir. Look at how they’re killing just as much as they’re incapacitating.”

“Dammit, I think you’re right.” I admitted, remembering all too well the day that Mindoir was attacked. I pushed those memories back down, and reached out to touch Reznikov’s shoulder, “Let’s figure out our next move, quick. We need weapons or extremely tactical maneuvers, if we’re going to save any lives and neutralize the threat”

Reznikov smiled at the presence of my hand, we both vividly remembered what happened at Mindoir aboard the Einstein.  She activated her kinetic barrier and through her war face she snarled “Shepard, with your biotics and my tech, we don’t _need_ any weapons.”

“We don’t have armor. Barriers and shields are of the utmost importance, if we’re going in with just tech and biotics, then we need to keep in mind that reinforcing our shields will eat into our attacks. We will have to time them with precision, and we must use as much stealth as possible.” I explained.

Reznikov smiled with a snarky but affirmative “Aye-aye, Gunny.” 

We grouped up with Santos and Maslow, the five other Marines having already run down into the lobby to make an escape. It made me wonder where the hell they had been stationed, because every Marine I’ve met would rather die on the battle field than flee the fight. In hindsight I assume they must have been impostors, wearing the uniform just to get free tickets.

“Shepard, my wife just messaged me that the Agincourt is on their way, ETA 3 hours, and we are to hold out as long as we can.” Excelsior said over the comm.

Surviving an invasion like this was asking for a miracle, but I had my orders. “All right, Marines, you heard him. We’re going to hold this colony with everything we’ve got.” I said, rallying the team over in the balcony.

“Excelsior, I want you and Santos to go and round up the civilians. Get them down into the lower deck crew passageways. Use your tech abilities, and if you get a chance to disarm a batarian for their weapon, seize the opportunity, but only if it is safe to do so.  Me and Reznikov will take them head-on, and try to reduce the treat. If these slaver-pirates are stupid enough to try to come for you and the civilians, try to bottle neck them, so you can cave in your position with an explosive until reinforcements arrive. We all know what they did on Mindoir; let’s make sure it doesn’t happen on Elysium too. Fall out!” I ordered, and the pair headed down the stairs into the seating area, talking with the panicked civilians to explain to them that we have a plan. Must be something about the Dress Blues, but they listened right away.

Myself and Reznikov launched biotic + tech combos, and detonated kinetic-energy explosions in the foyer in order to put up a resistance. We were taking cover behind polished-stone pillars, and after every combo, it seemed we had to make a run for the next one because of the batarian gunfire utterly destroying them. Thankfully our shields absorbed their bullets in between positions.

Their barrage was endless, and it seemed that for every one that we killed, three took its place funneling in from all directions. Our position was becoming quickly indefensible, and I scanned my peripheral in search of a tactical advantage, but found nothing suitable.

Excelsior messaged me via his omni-tool, indicating that they were going to have collapse the basement access, to stop the onslaught that had followed them into the passage. I looked to Reznikov who was charging up another cryo blast to launch into my singularity, “We need to get to higher ground.” I said somberly, leaning toward her with our backs tucked against the pillar.  

“I think I saw an emergency stairwell behind the ticket booth when we entered. If we can get through the batarians to gain access, we should be able to get to higher ground.” Reznikov offered, her situational acuity surpassing my own in this respect.

“Alright, you know what to do.” I nodded, boosting my barriers, and prepping a warp to throw into my fading singularity.

She reinforced her shields and stood up, to launch an incinerate blast into a team of batarians, that were attempting to flank around my singularity, but I followed behind, hurling my warp into the singularity. When it detonated, lime-colored blood and torn limbs propelled across the room, while the two of us sprinted toward the exit. My barriers were taking most of the hits, as they wore down the bullets were impacting hard enough, that I knew would have some nasty bruises to contend with. I hurled a throw into the frame of the door, knocking it open.

Once inside, I put up a stasis field to hold the door for a few moments, knowing it wouldn’t be much of a barrier to keep them from following us, but it would at least allow us the opportunity to get a few seconds head-start. We were sprinting up the stairs, fueled by pure adrenaline. Their bullets were flying between the stairs, and ricocheting all around us, my legs, arms, torso, and lungs burned, with the icy blood coursing my veins and the bruises that were inflaming against my muscles.

There was a batarian standing guard at the door, and I propelled a throw at his body, launching his powerless body against the door behind him. Once we reached the rooftop, I located an air filtration system by the opening, and I pulled it with my biotics to prop against the door, allowing us a few moments to catch our breath, and rethink our strategy.

“I can’t believe we made it. How did this many batarians get through Elysium’s planetary defenses?” Reznikov gasped.

“I don’t know, but we’re not out of the woods yet.” I replied, and turned to investigate the situation from this advantageous point-of-view, and to my surprise, I found something that was just too good to be true.

“Reznikov, can you fly that thing?” I asked with a prospective grin.

“Shepard, I can fly anything. That looks like an XV221 corsair-class shuttle. You’re in luck, because it just so happens, I’m a hawk in them.” She boasted, knowing that we were about to commandeer the batarian’s vehicle.

We crouched stealthily to the shuttle, where we a found a solitary pilot guarding his vehicle, but he was completely absorbed with the pornographic-interface of his omni-tool to maintain situational awareness. Blue energy hurled from my arm, as I pulled a stasis around him and stood there in a panic. When I met him, I pushed his stiffened body over, and raised my boot above his head, biotics flowing into my leg as it stomped down, the bones crunching underneath my force, splatting batarian brains all over my blue pants.

Just then we heard the batarians who were behind us in the stairwell at the door, attempting to push through, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they gave up and blew it open.  “Come on Reznikov, let’s get this bird in the air.” I shouted, manning the machine gun while she operated the machine.

“On it, Shepard!” She answered, engaging the controls and checking the switches.

“Fuck! The ignition has been programmed to jam out bio readings from any species other than batarians” She scoffed with frustration.

‘ _The batarians must have put these security measures in place to prevent their slaves from escaping’_ came to mind, and I my eyes focused on the dead batarian lying beside the ship. I leaped out of the vehicle to grab him, and without thinking, I held up his arm and launched a throw into his torso, ripping the arm from its socket.

“Here, use this!” I offered, reaching the severed limb to Reznikov.

In an instant, the engines roared to life, and before we lifted off, the stairwell door burst open with a grenade explosion, and the batarians began emerging.

With a wild-eyed scowl and through gritted teeth, I screamed, launching bullets from the massive weapon tucked between my legs. I sprayed their blood and guts all over that roof, as we lifted off, even threw a singularity to keep them helpless against my onslaught, just for shits and giggles.

From the sky we could see ground forces, unorganized for the most part, running in and out of establishments, killing civilians indiscriminately on the streets. The Elysium security force, was giving their best attempt at standing off with them, but they were also looking disparagingly unorganized. We shot down several fighters, provided aerial support for the security teams, and intercepted the enemy’s radio communication. Once we were discovered, I focused on returning fire to the ships that got within good range, but taking out the ground troops who posed the biggest threats to the civilians was my highest priority. Reznikov was taking evasive maneuvers in the urban landscape, and she flew effortlessly between the towering buildings, and underneath bridges, in effort to avoid the heavy cannons fire from the batarian fighters.

We able to severely damage a transport ship, that had carried about 20 batarians who were mid-rappel, and when the transport attempted avoiding fire, the rappelling troops fell to their deaths or smacked into the side of buildings. However, despite Reznikov’s incredible flying, we were simply outnumbered, and they took out the right engine.

Rapidly we began descending, with Reznikov fighting to maintain control, and me shooting anything ‘alien’ in sight. She intentionally crashed into a clothing store, and we exited the vehicle, Reznikov limping slightly, because the impact had damaged her knees.

I reached out to offer her a hand, “Can you make it? We need to find cover.” I would have carried her if she needed it.

“It’s just a bump, Shepard. The medi-gel will kick in and I’ll be 100%.” Reznikov explained, activating her omni-tool, and wincing as she applied the antiseptic to the bloody rips in her dress pants.

We ducked around the rubble, and found a back exit to the building, leading to an alleyway. As soon as the door closed behind me, I felt cold metal pressed against the back of my neck at the base of by head.

“Move and you’re dead, human.” A deep, scaly voice, growled from behind.

“You just fucked up, batarian.” I spat, subtly charging up a warp.

“Heh, you’re pretty stupid for someone who just caused so much trouble. Our leader will want your head, keep it up and I’ll take it myself.” The batarian mocked, certain that he had an advantage against me.

Reznikov attempted to reach for her omni-tool, when the batarian shifted his gun toward her, “That goes for you too, blondie.” He grunted.

I knew that doing anything would be a chance that could result in either one of us catching a bullet with uncharged barriers, but I felt more confident when the gun was at my own head than when it was directed Reznikov’s. I switched focus to my barriers and began charging them up.

By the time my barriers were visible, he switched his gun back to me “You think your weak-assed human biotics are a match for my pistol? Think again human! I’ve got 8 asari Eclipse bitches under my belt, and they didn’t stand a chance.” The arrogant batarian roared.

With that I quickly leaped outward, and pulled my shoulder to roll me onto my back, so I could launch a warp at his pistol arm. While he reached for his reserve weapon, Reznikov threw a cryo blast at him. He was incapacitated long enough for Reznikov to grab his weapon, and without pause, she shot two rounds into his head that propelled his body back against the wall, where he slumped to the ground.

Knowing that interaction surely got the attention of any close-by batarians, we ran back inside the nearly-destroyed department store.

“At least we’ve still got the big gun.” I commented, feeling safer inside the building, than in the exposed alley at this point. An improvisation came to mind while I was figuring how I would defend our position with the stationary weapon, and I controlled a biotic pull to dislodge the weapon from the hull of the ship, and set it on a clothing roller-cart. The make-shift platform for the heavy gun made it mobile now, and with reaffirmed confidence, we returned to the alleyway, completely prepared to take on anything that fucked with us this time.

We rolled down the alleyway toward the sound of gun fire, hoping that it was the security forces fighting back, and knowing that if we were going to make a stand it, would be with them. It seemed that our luck had turned, because we were not ambushed by any batarians, and when we emerged, it was behind a barricade that the security force had constructed.

They immediately recognized us for Alliance, despite our Dress Blues having seen better days. The commander in charge of this fortification, was overjoyed at the sight of my heavy weapon, and was greatly impressed with our aerial assault that helped them prepare this stand near the capitol complex.

I took position behind overturned vehicle, and began my assault once more at the batarians who were firing down upon us from broken out windows in the surrounding buildings. They were hitting us with everything they had, and a bullet grazed my cheek in, between the time that my barriers faded and I could reinforce them. We wouldn’t be able to hold this much longer with their reinforcements arriving, it seemed that our numbers dwindled with every wave they unleashed on us.

Then without warning, like flittering stars amassing in the sky, fighters and transports flooded the Elysium air space.

“This is it, people! We’ll die here before we surrender to slavers!!!” I bellowed, my lip stiffening and my nostrils flared. I continued shooting into the ground troops while I awaited the impending massacre.

“Look they’re friendly!” One of the security personnel shouted in surprise.

I averted my gaze to the sky, he was right—the Agincourt must have finally arrived! With my attention averted I didn’t notice the RPG that one of the enemy combatants had fired from the adjacent rooftop.

“Shepard, look out!” Reznikov screamed, as she tackled me from the side, plowing me into the ground, while around us the earth rumbled and shook, stones and other debris fell upon us.

Everything moved in slow motion, my ears were ringing, and as my senses regained their acuity, I couldn’t expand my chest, my first thought was that I had gotten shrapnel in my chest, but as I began to scan my body, I noticed that it was Reznikov’s limp body resting heavy on my chest. “Hey, are you okay?” I coughed, but with she did not respond.

“Reznikov!” I shouted, and began shaking her. I felt the hot stickiness of blood trickling down my cheek and pooling in the collar of my jacket, and I felt my heart drop into my stomach, “Fuck, Anke! Wake up!” I pleaded, pushing her off to the side to investigate what was going on.

Behind me, security was nursing their own troops, but in front of me, my best friend was gushing blood from her neck—she was dying. “Dammit! Why the fuck did you do that!?” I cried, and ripped off a piece of my under-shirt to form a make-shift bandage, and I activated some medi-gel to coat it before shoving it deep into the wound. It would last until a medic could get there, and I radioed the Alliance channel over my omni-tool, and identified myself to request an immediate medevac on my location.

As badly as I wanted to accompany my dearest friend, who had just risked her life to save mine, there were still Batarians to kill, innocent’s to save, and I knew that I had to put the mission first…as I always do.

**  
**


	12. War Hero I

2176 - Vetus System/Elysium-orbit/SSV Agincourt

For our actions on Elysium, word of our triumph had spread across the galaxy, but for some reason my name was mentioned more than any other, and the high brass was very impressed. Apparently, we saved the lives of a lot of important people by corralling those show-goers into the basement, and fighting the batarians off in the lobby provided the necessary distraction to keep them from breaking through the defenses. Sure enough, those ever-so important people—such as the governor of the colony, alien diplomatic dignitaries, and businessmen from distant worlds—were watching all of our actions through their omni-tools, via the Elysium security camera network. As such, the fight in the lobby, the aerial battle, the bunker, and our actions up until reinforcements arrived to rescue them, it was all captured, and was circulating the extranet, on every type of broadcast interested in humanity’s news across the galaxy. For that, we became dubbed the heroes of ‘The Skyllian Blitz’.

For having such tight security, Elysium didn't stand much of a fight against the swarm of batarian invaders. A mercenary group named ‘The Quasars’ had uploaded a virus that disabled the security station in orbit, and rendered the docked ships useless, that is until the Agincourt arrived and cleared the system externally. The bustling colony was unprepared for the tech that the mercs had used against them, and their ground forces—if you want to call them that—were caught off guard by the stealth attack that evening, and they were completely overwhelmed before they even knew what hit them.

As far as Systems Alliance was concerned, it was an act of war by the Batarian Hegemony—who in the aftermath vehemently denied any knowledge of the attack, making a public statement of condemnation for the actions of what they called a multi-species terrorist cell. And they were right, there were a couple krogan found among the bodies recovered on Elysium, but 99% of their makeup was batarian. The Alliance accepted the apology at face-value for diplomacy, but humanity wanted revenge, and knew that the batarians would do nothing to rein their people in, so we would be responsible for making The Quasars pay the price for their nefarious deeds.

Dealing with the media has never been an area that I excel at. For some reason, it brings out the worst in me, despite my best efforts to maintain professionalism. After the first 10 interviews, all of which I had to refuse the classified information they so desperately wanted, I decided that 96 hours was enough of Elysium.

I was taken aboard the Agincourt to the medbay, in order to be cleared by the ship’s Medical Officer. Thankfully, all I had gotten were some deep-penetrating bruises, and minor flesh wounds, that were easily healed by a zap with the regeneration laser and some ointment. I was debriefed by one of their intelligence officers, and he allowed me to use his office to write up my report on the events that transpired. The Agincourt provided me a bunk in the visitor's quarters, where I could shower and change into a new utility uniform. I wanted to get out of my blood-stained, war-tattered Dress Blues, having my best friend’s blood dried around my neck was unsettling to say the least.

As soon as I could, I went to check on Reznikov, where I was informed by a medical assistant that she would fully recover. I breathed a sigh of relief. _I don’t know what I would do if she died for saving me… I think I would just exterminate every last batarian from the galaxy_ , I thought, feeling my muscles tighten around my jaw, but all of that released when I caught a glimpse of Reznikov’s deep-blue-but-hazy eyes. The med tech told me that she had just been given a sedative in order to speed along her healing as I entered the room.

Her eyes were locked on mine when she softly said, "Shepard... I'm glad you're alright.” her voice broken and groggy.

"Thanks to you… That missile would have probably killed me." I assured, guilt panging in my chest that she laid there, grievously injured from saving my life.

"Don't worry about it. You would have done the same for me…you already have…saved me… in more ways than you know." She whispered, a tear running down her cheek.

"Hey, quit working yourself up. You have to get better, so we can kick some more batarian ass." I comforted, taking her hand in mine, I clasped the other one over them.

She glanced down to our joined hands and smiled, "I've been thinking…maybe it's the meds, but…I would have given my life… to save you, Eris Shepard...It was my only reaction…when I saw that missile's projection…coming for you. "

My eyes got a little misty, and I lowered my head, "I know, you were so brave back there. I can't even begin to express my gratitude for what you did. Just know that I feel the same. I wouldn't hesitate to charge into any battle with you at my side. You're a damn good Marine, Anke."

"Yeah, I guess I am…a Marine." She sighed closing her blood-shot eyes, and turned her head away.

I didn't like seeing her so emotional, so detached, so fatalistic; it really bothered me, even if it was just the meds. She had been a rock for me, as I had been for her through these years, and here she lays, broken and torn, because of her relationship to me...the guilt was searing through me, and I squeezed her hand. I wanted to say something insightful, something to ease her pain, but all that came to mind was revenge, "Don't worry, we will get them. Every last one." I assured her.

There was a long moment of silence, "…It doesn’t matter…I will never… have…you…" She muttered, and her hand became limp, indicated that the medication finally activated to do its job.

My head tilted involuntarily, and my eyes squinted, my mind racing, _Did I hear that right? You can’t have me?! What does that even mean?_ _It did she mean…that…she wants me?_ I shook my head in disbelief,  _'It couldn't be that. It had to be the medicine, or maybe she took a hit to the head._ I had no idea she felt that way. She was always like a sister to me, someone I never really considered having romantic feelings for. Nothing ever gave me the impression she wanted anything like that. I released her hand and took a seat in the guest chair, confused, and my heart began to ache.  _She risked her life for me, and nearly died for it, and…all this time…she's had that kind of feelings for me_. I released a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, from deep within. _If she brings it up again without the drugs…then I’ll take it seriously._ I decided, and sat there with her, until visiting hours were over, and then I headed out to find the mess hall.

After finding the Prothean ruin, and then engaging in a another highly public battle over such a short period of time, this caused people to begin taking notice of my career, as evidenced on my way to the dining facility, where the crew of the Agincourt began calling me the hero of Elysium. I maintained to them, that I only did what any Marine would have done in the same circumstances, but they insisted that the average would have gotten himself killed Marine trying to do the same as me. I don’t know how true that is, but a certain amount of luck was certainly on my side.

Later that evening, I received a vidcom call from my mother, once again she congratulated me on a job well-done, and to let me know that the crew of the SSV Matterhorn were impressed with my fighting, as per the vids circulating on the extranet. She also wanted to give me a heads up, that the higher ups were pushing my N-School application through, and were recommending me for some awards. I didn’t ask how she knew that, it was her job to be one step ahead, and she was very good at it. We shared remorse at not having seen one another, and she told me that my risky actions, while heroic, were making her wish we had more availability to share in each other’s company.  

I realized after our call that the Alliance would be trying to enterprise on this highly publicized incident, because it would boost morale, rally support from civilians, and promote recruitment. I didn’t know what awaited me once I got back to the Tripoli, but this spotlight was here to stay for a while.

The adrenaline coursing in my veins over the last few days stifled my biological needs, like proper food and sleep. Now that I was in the safe quarters of the Agincourt I was starving, and so tired that my bones were aching. I found Excelsior in the mess hall with his wife, and so I took my tray over to join them, and properly introduce myself. She told me that she was a communications technician, and while she tried to get stationed aboard the Tripoli or her husband vice versa, the Alliance deemed it a psychological hazard to allow newlyweds aboard the same vessel, and they would have to wait another 18 months to put in the request. Excelsior informed me that he intended to make the most of this visit though, and to not worry if he isn’t on the first transport back to the Tripoli—he was going to spend the remainder of his shore leave with his wife.

I went to my bunk for a little peace of mind, and my body welcomed its long-awaited slumber, but my mind was racing and determined to fight against my body. I could see how two people like Excelsior and his wife might end up falling for one another aboard a ship. We’re cooped up together on a small ship, in a tight space, many hours per day, every single day, and out of familiarity grows either attraction or contempt—for me, it is usually the latter. As I mentioned before, the Tripoli’s crew left something to be desired.

I let a deep sigh with the realization that I wouldn’t let go of this revelation, despite knowing the rabbit hole it leads down. _Maybe I was giving her signals without knowing it? No that’s impossible! I’ve had sex with plenty of people, often with her not far away. If she was interested, I would have known. Wouldn’t I? Maybe she is why I never found anyone on the Tripoli attractive…subconsciously, maybe she’s the closest attachment I’ve ever had, and while our relationship isn’t sexual, I could get that from anywhere, when the urge strikes._ The more I thought about it, I knew that I had been oblivious to the subtle hints she would drop, about her interest in my ‘activities’, or when she would admire my body after a strenuous workout, or when she would playfully tease me when we were alone, the ‘innocent’ flirting that I mused, and also encouraged—these were just boundaries that best friends can cross…right?  My feelings were very confusing, and challenged everything I knew about my relationship, with this woman that I trusted, and could rely on for anything. The longer I mulled over it, I began to consider that maybe I feel sort of the same way about her, but I had just accepted that she was off limits, thanks to the unwritten rules of friendship. After everything that had happened, my body was battered and tired, fueled only by nutrient paste, with no sleep my ability to reason was severely diminished, my mind was sated by the conclusions I derived, and deep sleep swiftly moved over me.

The next day was much like the first aboard the Agincourt, many servicemen wanted me to recant the battle, and give my details about what was happening in the vid that was circulating the media. When I arrived to check on Reznikov, I found that she was fully awake, no longer requiring the sedatives, her wound having healed itself through the lack of disturbing it with normal movements. The regenerative technique they used to repair her neck is wonder of modern medicine, and it is not in my skill set to attempt to understand molecular amelioration, so I won’t try to explain it to you.

Later in the afternoon, Reznikov was released from medical with light-duty for the next two weeks, and she was behaving much like her old-self, joking about how our antics made us famous overnight, and how our dumb luck lately was making waves throughout the galaxy—but I didn’t dare ask her about the drugged confession that I had been obsessing over. 

The Agincourt’s first officer came to visit us in the crew quarters in order to inform that we had been recalled from leave, and we were to report back to the Tripoli. He offered one of his crew to shuttle us to the Tripoli that would leave at 0430, and in the meantime he would send for our belongings from Elysium. It wasn’t uncommon to get called back from leave when important things come up, of course, I assumed it had to do with my N-School recommendation that my mother gave me a heads up on, and Reznikov was just as enthusiastic as me to get back to our home station—must have had something to do with nearly losing her life at this colony.

Since Excelsior and Santos did not have orders to return back with us, I decided to let them know that we were leaving, and to get an update on their status. To no surprise, Excelsior was occupying his wife’s quarters, with the do not disturb sign displayed, so I prepared an omni-tool message to send in 6 hours that would let him know the situation.

From there I went to track down Santos, who I came across in the fitness facility, attempting to entertain a duo of female Corpsmen who gushing over his tale of heroism on Elysium. When he saw me enter the lounge, he excused himself and walked to meet with me, “Gunny Shepard, can you believe it? We’re practically celebrities!”

“You’re a hero, live it up while it lasts, but don’t forget your bearings. You’re still a Marine, act like it.” I quipped, just to keep the swelling-with-pride Private on his toes.

He snapped to attention, “Aye-aye, Gunny!”

“Reznikov and I have orders back to the Tripoli, and will be leaving in several hours. You and Chief Excelsior are not required to report back, and are free to spend the remainder of your leave at your discretion. It is advised however, that you file your reports ASAP.” I explained, knowing that I wouldn’t be here to micromanage his actions, and that Excelsior was busy with his own activities.

 “Aye, Gunny. If it’s all the same, I think I might stay around here, and enjoy the sights of another ship for a while.” He smirked, looking back to the Corpsmen.

“Ooh-rah, Private.” I laughed, and turned to leave him to his game.

Despite all that was going on around me, my mind kept wandering back to my injured friend, and so I returned back to the crew quarters to check on her. “I’m fine, you know, Shepard. Look, all that’s left is this little pink scar, and the docs said it will be completely gone within the month, the only way anyone will even know it happened will be through records.” She said, pulling her hair around her shoulder to reveal the marking on her skin, that stretched across her jugular vein and up around her jaw.

I involuntarily winced at the sight of the scar, and felt the panging guilt hit my chest, “I’m just glad you’re alright, Anke…” I tried to make light of the situation despite my angst, “Too bad about that battle scar though,” I sucked my teeth and wrinkled my nose, “I can’t believe how much it has healed in just a few days.”

“Ah, it’s about time I got something to show for all the shit we’ve been through, Shepard. You’ve been the one to get grazed by bullets, got some nice scars by the way. But I must say, this definitely puts your little scratches to shame—though, if it had just been a scratch, I wouldn’t have gotten this state-of-the-art medical treatment.” Reznikov feigned with slight smugness.

“You got me there. I guess I’m going to have to one-up you on the next mission just to make things square.” I joked, before continuing sullenly, “I wish you wouldn’t have put yourself in harm’s way for me though…”

A grimace moved over her face, “Lighten up Shepard…if I had known you would get all weird on me, I might have just let that missile put you out of your misery,” she scolded, jokingly.  

I broke eye contact at the sharpness of her jest, “You’re right…I just never expected you to risk your life for me. That’s not what I signed up for, with the buddy program.”  

She confidently smiled, “Well it is exactly what I expected, so stop worrying about it, Eris. I would do it again in a heartbeat... I couldn’t live with myself if you had gotten killed when there was something I could have done to help prevent it.”

I allowed her reassurance to allow a half smile tug at my lips, “All right, Anke. I won’t mention it again. Next time, just try shouting at me, instead of throwing yourself in front of a missile. I don’t think I could live with the guilt of getting you killed, either you know.”

“Shepard. As much as you think you can control the battlefield, I’ve been doing this just as long as you, and I made a tactical decision—that was executed successfully, seeing that we’re both alive. Shouting at you would have just been a distraction, and reduced your reaction time to get out of the way. Don’t tell me how to be a Marine, and especially not how to be your wing man.” She declared, her face becoming red in the cheeks.

“Aye-aye, Ma’am” I laughed, knowing she didn’t outrank me, but acknowledged her orders on a personal level, that I dare not argue.

**  
**


	13. War Hero II

2176 – Arcturus Stream/Arcturus/Arcturus Station

The following morning, Reznikov and I were bid farewell by a few crewmen of the Agincourt, including Excelsior and Santos, who made no qualms about rubbing it in that they would see us aboard the Tripoli in a week and a half, after they finished shore leave.

The trip to Kepler Verge where we would link up with the Tripoli was uneventful, if not boring. The transport crew pried for war stories about what happened on Elysium, and we were happy to share that, including our anguish about the interruption to our shore leave after just having gained the spotlight for discovering that Prothean ruin. While the helmsmen were jovial and pleasant company, we slept for the majority of the trip across the system.

I had been sleeping for some time when something woke me, perhaps the hiss from a decompression recycle of the air tanks. I looked to my resting partner beside me, and I couldn’t help but stare at the gash across her neck. _I hope the doctors are right about it not having any lingering noticeability_ , I thought. My heart leaped in my chest when that guilt struck me, but I found that I didn’t want to avert my eyes from her resting figure, and my pulse quickened slightly as my eyes roamed from her neck downward, and landed on the rise and fall of her chest.

“Like what you see, Shepard?” Reznikov demurely asked, sleep heavily laden in her voice.

I didn’t know how long I was watching, obviously it was too long, and the look on my face must have been glaringly obvious, for her to make the association so quickly. “Sorry. I um…I was just spacing out, I guess.”

“Of course, just spacing out staring at my tits. You’re incorrigible.” She teased, adjusting herself to sit upright.

My face began burning with the rushing blood of embarrassment as I rubbed my eyebrow and turned away to watch the blur of stars out the window.

Reznikov noticed my embarrassment and said, “Shepard, I’m only kidding... What’s gotten into you?”

I think it’s a fair conclusion that I may have been developing a crush on Reznikov, and if I couldn’t get it under control, it would surely end up humiliating me, or worse, damaging my friendship. “I’m just exhausted, I guess.” I replied with a shrug, unable to make small-talk for the remainder of the trip.

We docked with the Tripoli around 0930, and were greeted by the Captain herself with a salute and a handshake. The entire crew was awaiting us in the shuttle bay—they all wanted to shake our hands, or pat us on the back and ask us about how we felt going from no-name Marines, to the most recognizable among the entire Systems Alliance. The Tripoli held ceremony on our behalf, to honor us for a job well-done, and to give us our commendations on a station-wide platform.

For outstanding field leadership, I received my commission to 2nd Lieutenant, and Captain Mattock removed my noncommissioned officer stripes and replaced them with the gold bars of my new rank. Seeing those lieutenant’s bars across my shoulders made my heart swell with such pride, tears misted in my eyes and I was utterly speechless—I didn’t expect to see my commission until well into my second tour of duty.

The first person that came to mind was my mother, even though I couldn’t see her reaction to the news, I would send her a photo personally from the ceremony—assuming of course, that she wasn’t watching the Tripoli’s security footage from her station already.

Additionally, my squad was awarded with the Medal of Colonial Service, Reznikov received a Purple Heart and a promotion to Gunnery Chief, and if that wasn’t enough, she and I were ordered to report to Arcturus Station for an awards ceremony at the Systems Alliance Parliament. The Office of the Alliance Navy Commandant determined that Reznikov was to be awarded the Naval Cross for heroism in combat, and with the recommendation of the Commandant, the Alliance Parliament had convened in a special session, to determine that I had met the requirements of being bestowed the Star of Terra, for going above and beyond the call of duty.

My mind was completely blown. _The Star of Terra?!_ I understood that our actions saved a lot of lives, but to be deserving of such an honor…it was difficult to believe. We had been in much stickier situations on other colonies, so I decided it must have had something to do with who we saved and the popularity of the vids that were circulating, and not to mention the Alliance’s intentions to spin this for all its worth.

Reznikov, like me, was completely overwhelmed with the news of our awards. After we finished socializing, and retelling the Elysium story to a newly astounded crew who were amazed by the tactics we used to kick batarian asses, we retired back to our room to prepare for tomorrow’s voyage to Arcturus, the hub of humanity’s intergalactic affairs.

The following morning, we skipped out on morning physical training to pack our bags, and went down to the quartermaster to get a couple pairs of new Dress Blues to replace the ones that were destroyed in the Skyllian Blitz, so that our new ranks were reflected for our ceremony. The transport left at 0830, so after we devoured our breakfast, we headed to the shuttle bay, where we caught transport to Arcturus.

The flight was about eight hours, and during that time, I took the opportunity to review the orders for our awards, as well as the evidence that they used as evidence to make their determination. It was a humbling experience to read about other people’s perspective of our actions, and yet, I still could not reconcile that my actions merited such recognition. I couldn’t have done any of it without Reznikov, and if I deserved it, then she did as well—then I realized that they chose me for the Star of Terra, instead of her, because she was injured…while I continued to fight.

Upon docking, we were greeted by an Alliance officer, and his entourage of two public relations servicemen, who candidly greeted me through their cameras. “Lieutenant Shepard, Gunnery Chief Reznikov, it is an honor to meet you. I am Lieutenant Dickerson, and these are my assistants, Private Hadley and Corporal Vraska. It is our job to acquaint you with our Headquarters, and prepare you for the upcoming ceremony.” He explained, and opened the back door to the station-shuttle. At first sight it became apparent, the Alliance does not spare any expense on luxury for Arcturus—in fact, compared to the comforts of these Alliance vehicles, the rest of us were riding around in glorified trash cans—I wasn’t jealous or anything.

We took our seats aboard the shuttle, and Lieutenant Dickerson continued, “The Prime Minister, Navy Commandant, and other distinguished members of Systems Alliance are looking forward to meeting the heroes of Elysium, and liberators of Elpis. As I’m sure you’re aware, it is not every day that the Naval Cross, or the most prestigious Star of Terra are awarded, and the incredible feats that the both of you achieved. Your actions were above and beyond the call of duty, and the representatives of humanity proudly wish to bestow these awards to you on a platform for the galaxy to witness the greatness among our ranks.” The Lieutenant praised, indicating that it was going to be a dog and pony show, just as I had begun to suspect.

“It’s an honor to be here under these circumstances, Lieutenant.” I smiled, and it was—for all intents and purposes—a mutually beneficial award. In fact, up until the beginnings of the Reaper War, it was my most valued medal.

“The both of you have done so much for humanity in your short time with the Alliance, and servicemen of your caliber only come once in a great while. Alliance Command wants you to know that your service is invaluable, and hopefully these awards represent symbols of our appreciation.” He humbly doted.

The headquarters tower was high atop the station, and required special permissions to dock, thus it was only accessible through several layers of security. Reznikov and I were given quarters in the diplomatic wing of the station, and it came with all of the amenities that anyone could expect to be schmoozed with. I would wager that the extras were just as luxurious as the resort we had just visited on Elysium.

Once I had my things squared away, I accessed the terminal in my cabin, to review any messages I had received over the encrypted channel, and to read any messages that I had received over the last few days. After clearing through business-as-usual messages, to my great surprise, I came across a message from Zephyra T’Erra:

_‘Shepard, I am writing to congratulate you on triumphing against your enemies. I have witnessed your incredible command of the battlefield, on a vid that is circulating the extranet. As I’m sure you are aware, your face has become quite popular around the galaxy, and other species are taking notice of your heroism. I could not be more proud of the warrior you that have become. I recall feeling it in my soul that you would go on to do amazing things, and here you are. If you ever find yourself in Asari space, my offer stands on showing you what the asari have to offer. I hold your memory near my heart, may the Goddess be with you - Z.’_

Heavy warmth moved over my chest at reading her words, I hadn’t heard from her in years, and the unique sensation of the asari meld flooded my senses, recalling the patience and strength that she used in guiding my mind and body. I realized the incredible admiration and respect that I held for her to this day, and knew that without her intricate training, I would not be the skilled and deadly biotic that decimated a battle field. I smiled, and pensively began preparing the words to reply to her message, when I heard the door to my cabin swoosh open.

“Shepard. How are you?” Reznikov asked as she walked in.

“Honestly, I am at a loss for words to describe it all.” I replied, with crossed arms I leaned back in my chair. “I guess this all seems so unreal. I never imagined getting this award, it wasn’t even on my radar.”

“I know what you mean…” she said, taking a seat in the chair across from me at my desk, “I thought getting the Gold Star would be the highest medal I ever got, and felt it was just random luck that I even got that. Now the Naval Cross for doing our jobs on a popular colony, that just so happened to be targeted by a band of mercs. I guess, I don’t know, I always thought it was only given in all-out war, where humanity perils if not for one insane person’s actions.”

“I feel the same way about his Star of Terra… But I guess those batarians are determined to have all-out war if they keep attacking us. We won’t tolerate this kind of shit for long, and we’re going to want retribution for Elysium, I am certain of that.” I explained, suspecting that ramping recruitment was of the most vital importance with war on the horizon.

“I guess you’re right Shepard… and I do kind of feel like a hero.” She glanced down with a smirk, “We really fucked up the batarian’s plans, didn’t we?” she asked, a half smile parting her lips.

“You’ve got that right, and everyone around the galaxy knows it! Can you believe those civilians were watching us the whole time? I sure that Santos and Excelsior were dying to get in on the action, and pissed off to be stuck guarding a bunch of self-important civilians, watching from their omni-tool.” I laughed.

“Well, I know I would have been. They didn’t have any weapons though, and someone had to protect civilians, that theatre was brimming with batarians—it must have been targeted in advance given the popularity of the show, and its guest list…. I can’t help but feel bad about the other two resenting us for getting these awards, though.” Reznikov said, guilt surfacing on retrospect.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” I consoled, not knowing how they really felt, but the whole thing was out of our hands—it’s not as though I could have predicted any of this.

She nodded and smiled, looking unsure, but wanting to believe I was right. I watched her movements, her entrancing blue eyes scanning me for any sign of doubt at the things I was telling her. I tried to stay focused on her eyes, but I felt my stomach begin to flutter, and I stared to look away when I caught sight of her much-healed scar and she immediately noticed.

“Shepard, it’s alright. I don’t even feel it. I wish you would quit beating yourself up. I’d rather have this little reminder of how I took the battle into my own hands, and ensured that you’re still here with me.” She cooed, uncharacteristic shakiness present in her voice through the words that had finally come to the surface, “I’d take a hundred of these, rather than to have the guilt of not saving you, and letting you die…leaving an irreplaceable void in my life.” Reznikov said softly, her eyes almost pleading.

My heart skipped a beat at hearing her precious words of devotion. Our eyes were locked, each of us seeing unspoken compassion and an urge to tear down the invisible barrier between us.

“Anke…I…” I started.

“Please. I need to get this out.” She insisted, standing to walk over to the large window that over looked the grand space station, and welcomed the warm glow of the red giant star of this system. She leaned herself against the wall and turned to me, “Our service contract is coming up in 13 months, and it probably means that we will not to be stationed together anymore. We will receive new assignments and probably won’t see each other again for a long time.”

“You’re right…it’s just with so much going on lately, I haven’t really stopped to think about it. Five years goes by so quick…” I dryly lamented.

She pursed her lips and nodded, “That’s not all Shepard. When I think about not being with you any longer…it has made me scared to lose you in my life. We have spent so much time together for many years, often times staring down Death himself together, and telling him not today…and in that time….” She hesitated, looking down and out the window, the ambient glow of the artificial lighting casting shadows on her face, “I guess…I’ve grown too close to you Shepard. Perhaps a little more than I should have.”

“I feel it too, Anke, and the fact we’ve been inseparable won’t make it easy…it helps to just not think about it.” I admitted with trepidation, and feeling unprepared for where this conversation was headed, despite ruminating on it for the last several days.

Contemplation swirled in her eyes, and she continued, “I realized somewhere along the way, that sometimes when you’re walking in front of me, I’m watching more than just your battle maneuvers. You move with such precision and dominance in everything you do, walking through life like each day may be your last, but that is driven by your essence, were behind everything is the beauty and passion of…I’ve never been good at talking about my feelings like this, but once I saw you like that, I couldn’t unsee it. I don’t want to.”

I stood up and walked over to her, and stood on the other side of the window.  With a nervous smile, she went on, “I don’t know why I decided to tell you all this now. Maybe it’s because everything will change with these awards. Maybe it’s because I realized that life is too short after nearly dying…or the weight of everything becoming a reality, and I’m just brimming with untamed emotions….” She paused, “It really doesn’t matter why. Ultimately, I wanted you to know, even if it changes things, I won’t live with the regret of never even trying.”

I felt my stomach tying up in knots, and couldn’t stop the smile from pulling my lips. I hadn’t seen Reznikov **_ever_** express interest or attraction toward **_anyone_** _,_ and now the object of her affection was **_me_**. I couldn’t deny that she was one of the most attractive women I’d ever known up to that point. She had blonde hair that accentuated the deepest-blue eyes that captured a piece of me with every look, her hips accented her thick muscular thighs, and the landscape of her tight core paved a way to the perfect globes that rested below her sharp neck—admittedly, I had admired her physique from time to time in the showers, as is only natural.

I had always considered her as someone that I needed to protect, whose camaraderie with me was reciprocal and never questioned. Anke wasn’t someone that I could romance, enjoy some casual sex, or even consider something more serious with, at least not in my mind. I sort of thought of her as this beautiful asexual being, who wasn’t burdened by the tawdry perils of lust and desire. I guess I had her on a pedestal, and since that day aboard the Agincourt, everything changed.

I stepped forward and leaned into her, and with my right hand, I tucked behind her ear a light-yellow wisp of hair, that had escaped her hair-bun, “There are times that I can’t pull my eyes off you either…I’m pretty sure you’ve caught that more than once. You would just laugh, and I would play it off. I guess since we’re close friends…I kind of always assumed you were just off-limits, someone that I can look at but never touch, and that’s just the nature of our relationship, I never questioned it until…”

“What do you mean, ‘off-limits’?” She interrupted, the pensive surprise creasing her brow, slowly softened to introspection, “Maybe…I was…” she sighed, “I guess I never wanted to open myself up like that to anyone...but the funny thing is, I’ve always been open to you, I just didn’t have the courage to admit it—not even to myself.”

“I know…but I sort of assumed I couldn’t go there, even if it crossed my mind…that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. You can’t go beyond that boundary, and have the same type of friendship…there’s really no coming back from it.” I hesitated, at what followed, “I…I never want that kind of rejection, not from you…I never want to lose you.” I explained.

She sighed and looked away, “Are…you saying…you’ve had the same feelings as me?”

I wanted to scream, _YES! For the love of everything good in the galaxy, yes!_  but the words wouldn’t come, and my heart sank, aching on this precipice.

I could see her lip quiver as she breathed pressuredly though her nose, “Maybe you’re right. There really isn’t any going back from this…” Her voice trailed off as she turned back to me, “But I feel like it’s now or never. Our careers will be forever altered with these awards. So if changes will happen anyway, I’d rather have some control, rather than just being along for the ride.”

 _Now or never, huh?_ I took a deep breath and leaned toward her, pressing my body against hers, my hips pressing into her and my breasts brushing against her arm, I wetted my lips and whispered “Anke, there is nobody in this galaxy that I would rather be with than you. All these years…perfection was right in front of me, and nobody could live up to that standard.”

I heard her breath quickening in her throat, the subtle smell of the perfume she applied this morning was faint on her collar, and almost instinctively, I reached my arms around her waist. I felt her stiffen and then lean into my embrace. I held my lips scantily close to hers and felt the hot breath hitting my own.

Our faces were so close, our noses touching. I could see her every detail and different shades of blue flecks in her eyes, so familiar, yet darker, maybe with nervousness…or perhaps longing. It did something to my heart, some strange feeling that was new and dangerous. A place I had never been, something that might be love—yes of course love, I loved her like no other, we were so close for so many years, but this was different, and a whole new depth that had never been explored.

The air tasted like her, so hot and entwined with my own. I was tempted to steal the kiss, but wanted her to make that next move, even though she was so tantalizingly close, and I knew that she wanted me to—I needed her to be the one who stepped over this threshold, for which there was no going back.  

She closed her eyes intoxicated with unfamiliar desire, and she bit her bottom lip in hesitation as I brushed my breasts against hers, our stiff uniforms barricading our burning skin from touching. Her chest was quickening, so I leaned into her ear, and breathed words of reassurance, “If you don’t want this, we can stop.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore” she faintly whispered, and gently pressed her lips against mine.

Her lips felt so smooth and soft against mine. I felt my heart thumping in my chest, our kiss deepening and our breaths quickening under the heat of our embrace. My vision was going dark, my heart beating far too fast. It was like being drunk, somehow. I had never felt like this before. I slid my mouth over her cheek, down her neck over her fresh scar.

“Eris”, a throaty whisper against my ear. I pulled her tighter against me, my hands in her hair. Our mouths met again, I was consumed with lust for her, and suddenly I was lost. I wanted her skin on mine, and all I could touch were those damn starchy Dress Blues. I pressed her against the wall, impatiently kissing her while trying to unfasten her uniform buttons with clumsy hands. She seemed to notice after a moment and throatily laughed, “Eris, I thought you were more talented than that,” as she gently eased me off of her, and nimbly undid my jacket, throwing it off.

“You’re making me crazy” I growled, almost frantic, finally getting her out of that overly-starched garment. I kissed the mole on her collar bone, the one I had looked at so often, feeling the warmth of her skin against my mouth. The taste of her was like a drug, and I tugged her shirt out of her belt, my hands quickly roaming over the skin of her waist. The taste of her was amazing, she was so familiar, and yet every sensation was brand new.

She reached her hands between us and started to undo the buttons of her shirt, to which I quickly followed with my eager mouth, an involuntary whimper escaping my throat.

I wanted to take every moment to savor in every touch and the electricity flowing between us, but passion and desire would not allow it. Her hands were over my shoulders, in my hair, as I kissed the tops of her breasts over her bra, down her waist. I pulled away her shirt, and undid the back of her bra, quickly doing away with that so I could capture her rose colored nipple in my mouth. She groaned, tugging at my hair. I was bewildered, consumed with the taste and smell and feel of her body and the reaction it was having on my own.

I could feel her hands shaking against my chest as she tried to unbutton my own shirt, but I was too impatient and tore the thing off, buttons be damned.

I half-kneeled, half-fell in front of her, kissing above her pants, as I tugged her belt loose, “Eris” she gasped, but I could barely hear her over the rush of my own blood pounding in my ears. I was tugging at her pants over her hips but she pulled me gently by my hair back up to her hot mouth.

I lifted her as we kissed, her legs wrapping around my waist. I slowly staggered toward the bed and lowered her onto it. My eyes, vision darkened with lust, drank in her body, and I pulled off her shoes, followed by her pants. She reached toward me, and I leaned into her and kissed her again, as her arms wrapped around me.

I trailed my hot mouth down her slim torso, my teeth scrapping her skin as my hands caressed up her legs to her panties and took them off in a slow tortuous motion.

It felt like I was on fire, utterly consumed with desire for her. Her thighs wrapped around my head as I tasted the delicious wet heat of her. I gently teased her with my mouth as she trembled beneath me, soft, animalistic purrs coming from her mouth.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped, and I grasped her hand as she convulsed, shaking under me, hips rocking as she came, nails of her other hand scrapping down my back.

It wasn’t enough, I wanted more of her. I moved up and kissed her soft mouth as I slid my fingers into her, and she groaned into my mouth. I plunged my fingers into her, quickly finding rhythm with her thrusting hips while I kissed her with her taste still on my lips. She gasped, and I could feel her body convulse and tighten around my fingers as she came again.

She buried her head against my chest as I fell back against the bed, exhausted. I held her close as our breathing slowed, feeling instinctively tender and protective of her.

“Are you alright, Anke”, suddenly worried that I had taken things too far in my insatiable lust.

“I am very alright, Eris” I could feel her smile against my neck. We laid like that for a long time, taking in the post-coital bliss, drawing lazy circles on the exposed skin that our hands fell upon and nothing to say except “Ready to go again?” I asked, to be met with “I think it’s my turn”, as she climbed on top of me.

We made love three times that night, exploring new depths and discovering the passion that had been so scantily beneath the surface for so many years and finally overcoming us both in sweet ecstasy, succumbing to sleep only two hours before awakening to alarms for the day of our award ceremony.

“Rise and shine,” I murmured, sleep still thick on my tongue, “Are you ready to be pinned War Heroes of the Alliance?” I asked my best friend and lover, as she opened her eyes to an early wake-up call.

“After last night, I am ready for anything.” She said, groggily.

Reluctantly, I peeled myself out from underneath the bed sheets and the warmth of her still-naked body, which elicited a disappointed groan from Anke, as she pulled the sheets around herself before sitting up.  

We showered together, as we had done hundreds of times before, but now with added meaning and the bonus of inappropriate touching. All of the routine things we had done together over the years all had brand new connotations and experiences to explore together.

Anke went to get dressed in her room, and I took the opportunity to reply to Zephyra’s message, as well as inform my mother about the award ceremony—I had wished she could have come to witness such an occasion, but knew that it was far too short-noticed for her to get any leave approved, and then travel to here, from her location deep within the Attican Traverse.

Anke Reznikov looked more stunning than I remembered her looking ever before. It wasn’t the full chest of medals, or her newly pinned stripes, rather, she was glowing, with an aura of confidence and written on her face was a tempting look that was stirring up newfound want. I moved in to kiss her, and my hands began wandering over the tautly pressed uniform, grabbing and groping whatever took my interest. Her breathing responded to my sensual exploration, and when a moan escaped her lips, she began pulling back, “Shepard, if you keep this up we’re going to miss the ceremony.”

She was right, and being so recklessly unprofessional for receipt of the highest award in the Alliance would be a snub that would not be overlooked easily. I gave a sigh and nodded, “Okay, okay, fine. I don’t suppose the brass would be forgiving of such a transgression. Maybe later we can pick up where we left off?” I winked.

Private Hadley greeted us at 0730 in the Patton Wing dining facility, in order to provide escort to meet Lieutenant Dickerson at 0800, so that they could acquaint us with the details of the ceremony.

The ceremonial hall was across the station, for which we decided to walk to rather than take the transport. The upper levels were for diplomatic offices, and high Alliance command, and also where Parliament meets. The lower levels of the station were filled with restaurants, night clubs, outlets, and just about anything that someone could want to find regardless of their status or wealth. In the arms of the station were the military wings, also, where Fourth and Fifth Fleet headquarters was located. The latest and greatest of the Alliance Navy came from this station and they had the resources to make it happen—it was the largest military installation I had ever seen next to Benning, which was on plant-side as opposed to operating in open space. 

Upon arrival, Lieutenant Dickerson was tapping diligently on his datapad while he awaited our arrival. He greeted us with handshakes and directed us into the lofty room.

Tables filled the open space, and there was a platform with a podium, with seats lined behind it, and there appeared to be a dance floor set up beside a bar for catering and drinks. There was also a media pit set up between the tables and the platform, confirming my suspicions about the propaganda influence in their hasty decision to award us with these prestigious medals.

Lieutenant Dickerson explained where we would sit, who would say what, and when the time came to be presented the awards by Prime Minister Garnet Barrister, and Fleet Admiral Hewitt, Commandant of the Alliance Navy.

He informed us that we will be expected to say a few words about our actions, and rally people around the idea that we’re not alone in the galaxy, and how we need to be ready for anything—they were hoping for us to be a recruitment poster.

“Lieutenant Dickerson, I’ve never been exemplary with cameras. If the Alliance wants me to say something in particular, maybe it should be on a prompter for me to read.” I explained.

“I understand your apprehension, but this is about your heroism and valor. That, Lieutenant, is exemplary. But, if you would be more comfortable with a script, we can accommodate your request.” He smarmily offered.

After the walkthrough and explanation of the itinerary, he led us to a Cosmetics Tech for grooming, and to ensure that we looked presentable for the dog-and-pony show that we were about to put on for Systems Alliance. Please note that I do not mean to diminish the significance of the award, we did accomplish some amazing things, of which many others would have failed to achieve under the same circumstances, but I’ve known Marines who have performed greater feats than me, who did not receive any special commendations for their efforts, things that are just part of the job, and nobody expected a pat on the back. It kind of leaves a salty taste in your mouth when such an extraordinary award, becomes so politically motivated, and meant for a public spectacle—but maybe that’s all it has ever been.

With our hair meticulously placed, our noses properly powdered, and our uniforms double checked for creases and accuracy of medals and ribbons, Lieutenant Dickerson returned, and indicated that it was time to get onto the ceremony. He accompanied us down the passageways filled with Alliance personnel, and members of the media, who were flashing their camera shutters at us.

When the ceremony began, we were pummeled by lengthy speeches from the admirals about the Alliance’s place in the galaxy, improving our military readiness to be on par with the aliens abroad, and ensuring safety among the colonies. Finally, when the Prime minister spoke, he got into the history of the Star of Terra, and how will take more Marines willing to go above and beyond in order to face the new challenges we face with new enemies resenting humanity and what we represent.  

The Prime Minister recalled my heroic feats and then I was called upon to receive my award. It was placed around my neck, and I turned to give a small speech about the importance of what we do with the Alliance, where I found a teleprompter with words already prepared for me. It was what I expected, a recruitment spiel, but I didn’t have a problem with it, I mean, keeping the ranks filled does indeed keep us prepared for war if it should ever break out. After that, the Commandant delivered a brief speech, and boasted about Reznikov’s achievements, then when he placed the award around her neck, she did not deliver a speech, which I found interesting, but she was relieved nonetheless.

At the close of the ceremony, there was a celebration afterwards, which was mostly for greasing wheels with the various representatives of the colonies where our actions had been most salient, and other politicians who wanted some of our fame to rub off for their upcoming elections. Despite the formalities, it was essentially an opportunity to cook up their next power-scheme, which was not something that interested me, ever, at any point in my career.  

Reznikov and I sat at a table with some of the brass from across Systems Alliance, but took my seat closest to Cdr. David Anderson, the red stripe N7 insignia on his uniform made him stand out among the other brass. Anderson had no interest in schmoozing, in fact he told us that he was only there because he happened to be on the station for a reassignment briefing, but didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see the awards ceremony, since he had never seen the SoT awarded in his career. He shamelessly tried to recruit me into going for N-School—to which I nonchalantly informed him that it was already in my plans. He laughed and was not at all surprised—my reputation for being gung-ho precedes me. 

The Alliance spared no expense for the occasion, even calling upon the Blue Angels to do an aerial show outside the observation window of the ceremonial. It was a grand window meant to impress dignitaries take in the full grandeur of the Arcturus Station maintaining humanity between warm glow of the red giant and the cold vastness of space. It was my first time seeing show-fighters in person, and I was thoroughly impressed by the refractive particles from their exhaust making a rainbow spectrum in the shape of the Alliance Emblem.

After it was over, Anke and I decided that since we had a little over two days left of shore leave, and we didn’t have to report back to the Tripoli for at least 96 hours, that gave us plenty of time to defile every corner of the diplomatic suite. 


	14. Sole-Survivor I

2177 – Hawking Eta/Century/Akuze

So I guess now we come to the chapter of my life where the brilliant glitter of my career began to char into leathery resolve. I don’t like to dwell on the events that happened here, but it’s a part of my life, and so I’m going to go ahead and put it out there. Looking back, I don’t think I ever really forgave myself for it, and in ways, if I had somehow found a way to do so, then being able to do the things necessary to win the Reaper War, might have been out of my reach.

It’s never easy losing people…and when it hits you hard, you have two choices: let it eat you up, or learn from it.  

I felt on top of the world with Anke Reznikov, she taught me what it meant to be a lover, a friend, a partner, a leader, a warrior, and a Marine in every sense of the word. I came of age with her, and we grew up together, from the throes of adolescence, to the beauty of finding peace in another’s embrace, within the harshest back worlds of the galaxy.

I never thought that I would find myself in love, but every moment that she was not near me, I could not think of little else.  But when she was around my body took a mind of its own, unwilling to keep my hands to myself. Sure, I had feelings when I was younger and lost my virginity in the discovery of the wonder of sex, but it wasn’t anything like this. My stomach now tied up in knots and trembles would shake my heart, my breath would get caught in my throat, all from setting eyes on Anke. Everything had changed, it had new meaning, new context, and I was soaring high.

Upon arrival back at the Tripoli, she and I tried our best to keep our relationship private as possible, but it was a small ship, and we were both so very much enamored with one another, I’m fairly certain some people caught onto it.

Excelsior and Santos had arrived a couple of days ahead of us, and while Santos seemed thrilled for us getting the Star of Terra, Excelsior seemed a little less-than-happy, presumably because from my orders, the only recognition he received for his actions was an oak cluster on his Meritorious Campaign Badge, and the aforementioned Medal of Colonial Service, which honestly paled in comparison.

The Tripoli’s activities over the last few years had brought the Alliance Marines a great deal of attention, and of course some crewmen were beside themselves with the attention that they had been garnering through their service aboard the Tripoli, even if some of them were green with envy. As one of only three lieutenants, I now had two squads and six teams, of which I had a primary and secondary. Reznikov was promoted to take my old position, so she and Gunny Maslow were my new squad leaders. Marines would often come out of nowhere, and ask to be assigned to one of my teams—I had no intention of changing my personnel up too much, and fortunately, the Captain had the final say in any matters of that nature, so I would just thank them for their interest, and refer them to the chain of command.

Within a few months, I received word from the Alliance command that my recommendation for N-School had been processed, and I was chosen to join the next class of special operations candidates, to report in twelve weeks at the Interplanetary Combatives Training Academy at Villa Militar in Rio de Janeiro, back on Earth. It should have been the most amazing news I had ever received, since it would take my career in a direction where I could make real differences in the Alliance and throughout galaxy…but somehow it wasn’t.

Reznikov and I had made a habit of sneaking off together whenever we had a little down time, which was often while we traveled between systems. We were en route between the Maroon Sea and the Hawking Eta, the relay jump taking about 17 hours, so Anke and I took a little reprieve to ourselves in the cargo bay, doing performance maintenance checks and services on one another—after all, it is recommended to do PMCS regularly on military equipment. 

The M35 Mako worked excellently for resting a seat down enough to have sex, it also added a little privacy for sharing intimacy that was difficult to find in many other places throughout the ship, however if the crewmen ever decided to view the security footage from the cargo hold, they would definitely get an eyeful.

Learning her body was one of my favorite things, finding out how a caress on her inner thigh elicited a different shudder than a stroke across her neck, how she was ticklish behind her ear and her above navel, the way it evoked a deep purr when I kissed her collar bone, and the exquisite bite of her nails digging into my shoulder when I flicked my tongue over her nipples. We had become very comfortable with one another, and the best part was that even though she was my lover, she was still my best friend, and this new dynamic was absolute rapture.  

I was stroking her hair, as she rested her head on my shoulder, and I took a deep breath before confessing, “Sooo, I finally got word that I’ve been accepted into N-School. I ship out in twelve weeks…” I explained, knowing that sharing this exciting news for my career was also dreaded information for our relationship that would be strained by the confines of our obligations to the Alliance.

“That’s wonderful, Shepard!” She beamed, leaning toward me to wrap me in an embrace, squeezing an arm around my neck and kissed my cheek.

“Yeah...I just…I wanted more time with you is all… I guess this is it.” I sighed.

“After N-School you’ll have a new contract, and get assigned to a new ship.” She sighed, rubbing my hairline with the fingers she wrapped around my neck.

“We knew this was coming though. We’re both war heroes, it was bound to happen that the Alliance would have big plans for us.”  I maintained, suddenly realizing that my words came out very cold.

“Actually, I have been thinking… about going to college after this contract.” She injected, almost questioningly.

“You’re practically a celebrity in the Alliance. You could have any post you wanted…” I paused, “You mean you’re not going to re-up?” surprise furrowing my brow.

“Well, when we first signed up, it was either this or college…and I think I have seen and done everything the Marines can offer me. Following you around the galaxy has been the most rewarding thing in my life, and now, I just feel like it’s time for something else… Maybe with a college degree I can make policy changes, or even get a spot on the Citadel” She explained. “I was going to bring it up…but I didn’t know how…”

“We will make it work, Anke.” I muttered, nuzzling into her.

“Just thinking about not seeing you for months, years maybe…it is breaking my heart…” She offered, her voice trailing off. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Don’t you know it’s breaking mine too?” I protested, pausing for a silence that slid between us, and the growing rift coerced me into continuing, “I could always turn it down.” I suggested.

“Shepard, it is the opportunity of a lifetime. They need your biotic talents…if you didn’t go, I think you would regret it.” She shot back, caressing my jawline.

“I could always become a drill instructor in biotics at the academy. I do have an edge on the other Alliance biotics, especially their instructors. That way we could be closer, and I wouldn’t be throwing myself in front of bullets, or solving some dangerous anomaly on remote planets regularly” I promoted my half-thought-but-sincere plan.

“Why don’t you think on it a while, before you decide if that is what you really want to do? Please don’t make a decision like that on a whim.” She compassionately placed feathery kisses on my forehead, “I’m yours completely, Shepard. If we have to be separated for a while, it will be hell, but I trust in what we have...and I know you’ll keep yourself alive.”

Her words rippled through my heart, for the first time, something in my life now had more meaning to me than being a stalwart of humanity, and I smiled,

“I just want to focus on the fact that I’ve got you right now, and I want to make the most of it”. She said, leaning down to fit our lips together. The fire between us drew the tips of my fingers across her stomach and blazed downward to the patch of trimmed fur just within reach of her utility belt I felt her breath catch and saw a sultry smile forming in anticipation of making love in the Mako.

Shortly after we arrived in the Hawking Eta, we received a distress signal from a remote colony on a distant planet called Akuze, the colonists were reporting that the wildlife had started going berserk and they needed some reinforcements. It was a typical request from the colonists, they always needed help with something or another and if the Alliance was in the area they didn’t hesitate to call on us. Admittedly, some of the oddest battles I had encountered prior to the Reaper invasion, had been distress signals from colonists finding themselves into trouble.

“Lieutenant Shepard, I am sending you and your troops down to provide assistance for the colonists. They didn’t offer any specifics about the situation with their wildlife, but as per usual be prepared for anything. Typically, I would only send one squad, but last time I was called upon for assistance with colonial wildlife, we were herding thousands of animals and assisting with rebuilding an entire village with just seven Marines.” XO Commander Estrada explained, handing me the datapad with our orders and the coordinates for the mission.

“Aye-aye, Sir.” I snapped. With that, I called my squad leaders into the briefing room, and let Reznikov and Maslow know the situation and our expectations for the mission so they could brief their teams. I put Maslow in charge of obtaining the gear and ordinance we needed, and Reznikov took her teams to prepare the Mako and ensure we had the necessary tech, and supplies to rebuild anything that the colonists might require. 

Estimated Time of Arrival was 45 minutes to the planet once we made it to the Hecate System mass effect relay. Twenty-five Marines made up my platoon, and once prepared, we all meandered around in the shuttle bay, awaiting our orders to ‘move out’.

This was my first mission in charge of such a large group of Marines, and I didn’t get a lot of experience in running my squad and teams before assuming this command. One of the disadvantages to being promoted quickly is that with the added responsibility, there isn’t much experience to back it up—I can’t blame myself for what happened once we got to Akuze, but my lack of experience probably didn’t help anything either.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. Maslow was briefing his squad, and discussing with them some things to expect, such as environmental factors, fundamentals of weapon protocols etc. and Reznikov was discussing with her team leaders the logistics of making sure shields and communications were set up immediately upon arrival. I was taking the opportunity to familiarize myself with a new Aldrin Labs armor-set that I had picked up while we were on Arcturus. It had a new integrated system for boosting kinetic barriers, and a program for monitoring armor breaches to instantly apply medi-gel, which I could upload into my squad’s network.

My visor was down while I was working on programming my suit, and I didn’t notice it when Reznikov approached me.

“Shepard.” She said, sharply.

I lifted my visor to meet her eyes, and smiled, “Hey, are you ready?”

“My team is ready, and I think it will be a smooth mission. We’ve completed dozens of these missions, and from the report on the planet, there’s nothing that makes this one especially hazardous.” She answered with a confident nod.

“Who knows, this may be our last mission together. Assuming that between now and twelve weeks, these damn colonists can manage their own problems...” I offered, hopefully.

“That never happens. With our luck we will be on a new mission every week between now and then.” She laughed.

“You’re probably right. At least it will keep us busy.” I shrugged, looking at the silver lining of the dreaded situation that likely awaited us.  

“I can think of much better ways to keep busy, Shepard.” She smiled and winked, before turning back to her squad. 

The reality that I would no longer have my most trusted teammate at my side, after these last few missions, was heavily setting in. I had come to count on Reznikov to have my back, and she always did, in fact, it was almost as if we could read each other’s mind in battle, and I knew that I would never find that connection with another Marine. The fact she was also my lover, and my childhood best friend, only served to make our connection that much stronger…I longed to have more time with her.

The Tripoli had been in orbit over Akuze for about 40 minutes, when we finally received our orders to take two M35 shuttles down to the colony. I traveled with Reznikov’s squad, not only because I preferred to be at her side, but it also used to be my squad. 

Akuze was a dusty, rocky, planet with scarce flora, the colony, Troy, was built of pre-fabricated housing units, and scattered across the planet were a few industrial facilities/warehouses, which was not entirely uncommon in newly established colonies.

We landed in a small crater behind the colony, and I ordered Maslow to take Alpha squad out to establish the perimeter, set up motion detector equipment and shields, and assist Bravo Squad, Team 1 in repairing the damaged satellites. Reznikov and team two set up the tactical operations center and worked to get the comms working.

For me, working on the TOC was the top priority, but it also meant working closely with the colonists, and that was now my responsibility as the leader of this operation.

With my teams assigned, and acting out their orders, I headed for the village. Awaiting me at the edge of the colony was worried and confused colonists, who immediately escorted me to the leader of this establishment, where I exchanged greetings with a man named Jacob Byrnside.

“Lieutenant Shepard, thank you for coming. Troy is just a small mining colony, Lieutenant, we don’t have a lot…It’s a dire situation here; we don’t know what is happening with our livestock. As you can see, it’s all gone. Just vanished! We will starve if we can’t get some rations, or get them back. I hope that you’re going to be able to help us…” He spouted off quickly, almost without taking a breath, and then he looked behind me “I noticed that you didn’t bring any supplies for us?”

“Mr. Byrnside, your distress call was not very detailed. We didn’t know what to expect once we arrived...” I began, but he quickly interjected, “Of course! Our communications towers have been down for days. It’s all to do with the atmosphere, you see? It has very dense, refractive particulate matter which scatters communications. We had three satellites in place to triangulate our off-world communications, but they were badly damaged in the storm…”

Alarmed at this new development, I tested team communicators “Squad leader Alpha, this is Shepard, do you read me?” The response was delayed, and filled with heavy static. “Maslow here…yes, but barely… with the interference…work is moving steady…we haven’t found any evidence…on the perimeter.”

Byrnside injected “your local communications should come in and out, so long as you stay within about 2.5 kilometers.”

Relieved, but somewhat irritated, I said. “Alright, so that explains your vague message. Now tell me, what’s going on here?” I asked bluntly.

“It all happened in the middle of the night. It was during a dust storm—which are pretty common here, and there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, except for the fact that the next day all of our livestock had vanished, and our communications towers were badly damaged. We were all but stranded here to die, except for an emergency distress beacon that comes standard with these pre-fabs.” He explained, pointing to the still-blinking distress beacon setup atop the building behind us.

“Did you send your people to scout nearby areas that your livestock may have wandered to?” I asked, knowing colonists rarely used any common sense.

“Of course, Lieutenant. We have scouted as far as we could go in a day’s travel, and there isn’t any trace—not even foot prints. It is truly as if they vanished in the middle of the night, swept away by the wind. But the thing is, if the wind was strong enough to take the cattle, it would have surely taken our colony with them. Two of the comm towers were completely smashed, twisted up… I don’t know how wind could have done that, it had to be the local wildlife, but they have never come so close to the settlement before.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing to the ground and stepped closer, “Something isn’t right here, Lieutenant. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can feel it in my bones.” He whispered.

I nodded, “We will get to the bottom of it, Mr. Byrnside. In the meantime, keep your people here in the village, and try to stay out of our way. Re-establishing off world communications is our top priority. What efforts have you made to repair your satellites?”

“We had enough parts here to fix one of them, which is the one closest to the settlement. This type of damage to the satellites was never planned for, they have shielding for the storms and should have lasted fifty years before needing any major repairs.”

“Who is in charge of the repairs?” I asked.

“Jim Harding, he is our engineer.” He said.

“Alright, we will coordinate with your engineer to effect repairs. Meanwhile, we will begin our investigation to get you and your people squared away.” I reassured. Oftentimes the Alliance presence can make colonists a little edgy, mostly because while we offer protection, trouble almost always finds us, and civilians usually get caught in the crossfire.

I headed back to the transport ship, and found Reznikov and her squad still unloading gear and setting up the shields for around the camp.

“Chief Excelsior, find out if we can get through to the Tripoli with our standard communicators.” I asked, hoping that our Alliance military gear was up to the task of breaking though the unusual atmosphere.

“I’ll give it a try, Ma’am, but judging by the way local radio is breaking up, I wouldn’t hold my breath.” He said while observing readings from his data pad, and walked toward the amplification tower setup behind a stack of crates that held our heavy artillery and tactical supplies.

Things were off to a smooth start, and with any luck, we would find the disappeared livestock or their remains, repair the damaged satellites, and get on our way in just a few days. Once the first satellite at the rear of the settlement was back online, Reznikov attempted to patch me in to the Tripoli again, so that I could send a mission update, but unfortunately the bizarre atmosphere was interfering with our broadcast, even with our military-grade amplifiers boosting the signal.

“It’s not looking good Shepard. I can send data packets randomly as the conditions allow, but the atmospheric disruptions prevent streaming communications between the surface and the Tripoli.” She explained.

“This planet isn’t making things easy. Any idea when they might receive our messages?” I asked.

“It could be 10 seconds, 10 minutes or 10 hours, Shepard. There’s no way of determining when the atmosphere will disperse enough to allow for a clear signal. We need those other satellites back online. I’ve got a team out on the eastern satellite right now, and I get will get a team started on the last one after the western perimeter is secured.” She briefed, while resting a hand on my shoulder.

“So, what did they tell you about the situation here?” Reznikov asked, leaning down by my helmet, close enough to remind me that we’re intimate, but not so obvious as to give anyone else the same impression.

“The colonists’ livestock vanished without a trace during the middle of a dust storm. It seems likely that they probably wandered off and got lost, but the worst case is that we’ll find them all dead in a ravine somewhere. Jacob Byrnside is the civilian-in-charge of the colony, and he has requested that the Alliance assist colonists in finding their livestock, and getting their communications repaired, so that they can obtain rations and procure new supplies. We have found no evidence of hostiles in the vicinity, however Byrnside indicated that the local wildlife has been acting up. I will continue investigating more information on the matter, to hopefully get some information that might prevent this from happening again after we leave. It is my preliminary estimate that we should require no more than 72 hours planet-side to complete our objectives.” I told her, while simultaneously engaging my comms to transmit my report to the Tripoli.

“I like your estimates, Shepard—the sooner we’re off this rock, the better. I don’t like this atmosphere.” She said, while reaching above her head to string a bundle of cables through the carabineers, and pulled them down connecting them to the monitoring equipment in front of her.

When the last cable clicked into place, static interference began transmitting from across the local network, “This is Alpha team-two, Corporal Toombs. We’re picking up strange readings on the outskirts of the mission perimeter _.”_

I depressed my helmet’s communication system to reply directly, “This is Shepard, what’s the situation Toombs?”

“Its massive. Could be the herd? Permission to check it out, Ma’am?” He asked assuredly.

“Negative, Corporal. We need that satellite back online—finding the herd is secondary to your objective.” I ordered.

“Understood Ma’am. We’re working on it, and will update you with any more changes. Team-two, out.”  

“Sounds like it might not even take 72 hours, Shepard…Leaves plenty of down time for us” Reznikov whispered, playfully nudging me in the shoulder.

I bit my lip at her innuendo, anticipating us pushing the limits of responsibility and fun for some quick sexcapades, after a mission. “I’m sure we could stretch it out…just to make sure that we didn’t overlook anything important.” I winked, before turning my attention back to my situation report.

While I was overseeing the operations, my mind went back to the conversation we had before this mission. She and I both knew that our dynamic on the battle field had changed since Elysium—we worked stronger together, acted more intuitively… _The Alliance needs Marines like us, but how could I convince her of that, when she has the right to pursue college if that’s her dream. But, if she just wants to change the world, maybe she could apply to N-school with me—Special Forces covertly initiate and end wars, save innumerable lives, and provide evidence for the creation of doctrines that promote human interests._ I considered the possibilities if we were both Special Forces, knowing we would be a deadly combination that the galaxy wouldn’t dare to reckon with. I also knew that if she wanted it, she would have no trouble at all getting in… It was at that moment I realized that she was right, and changing our ambitions to be together was going to be a difficult decision, that could not be made lightly.

**  
**


	15. Sole-Survivor II

2177 – Hawking Eta/Century/Akuze/Troy-colony

An hour and a half later, my engineers had finished setting up our operations center, and the perimeter was secured with all shields active and online. Toombs had not responded to any of my requests either, and I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t have belayed my orders to follow that radar blip, but there was no reason to think anything else. I sent word to Maslow to investigate his other team that had been offline for some time, and ordered him to investigate Toombs’ last known location.  

There was something not setting right with me about this colony. Sure the iridium mines made this a lucrative colonial settlement, but with such scarce off-world communication capability, it seemed they would have prepared better for this type of occurrence with their satellites. It became apparent that this colony was funded by shoddy corporate interests, as evidenced by advanced transmitters above ground, that were not fitted for off-world communications, and our seismographic scans revealed there was more than just mining going on underground, but to make matters worse, distant tremors regularly moving that are high enough on the Richter Scale to destroy these non-seismic pre-fabs if a quake happened close enough. This colony is a sitting duck to the environmental dangers of Akuze, so I decided to go back and have a word with Mr. Byrnside, to see why the parent company was so negligent with their lives, and also why they aren’t here to provide assistance, instead of calling on the Alliance to clean up their mess.

The dark-featured slender leader was standing around where I left him, and commiserating with the other villagers, “Mr. Byrnside. What organization are you with?” I demanded.

He arched an eyebrow, “We came here as volunteers under the Human Interstellar Colonization [HIC] program back on Earth.” He explained, but quickly realized that I was looking for answers about the state of the colony. “Oh, you mean all this?” He asked, raising his arm to point at the unusually sophisticated tech for a mining colony, “Yeah, there’s some kind of underground engineering facility over there. The corporation that runs the mining operations, owns it too, maybe you could go talk to them? They won’t even acknowledge we’re here.” He said, pointing to a hill that rose out of the ground about one kilometer away and just underneath the third satellite that we needed to repair.

“Aren’t you working for the corporation? Who pays for your labor?” I interrogated.

“No, we’re paid by the HIC program—they contracted our labor out to the organization that owns the resources on this planet. It’s all business, Lieutenant, but we just wanted to help humanity out, and make a better life for ourselves. Once we get our communication abilities back, you could contact our HIC liaison and get the details.” He explained, opening his omni-tool to forward the contact information to me.

“So that facility over there, they know you’re working for their organization, using their tech, and won’t even speak, with you or offer you help, when you’re in a bind?” I quipped, skepticism heavy in my infliction.

“I don’t get it either. We even sent a few people out to ask them about our missing livestock, but they wouldn’t even let us in to talk.” He explained, defeat apparent on his face.

“I’m going to look into your claim. Just so you know corporate enterprises requisitioning military assistance, to offset their own expenses, is a serious violation of the Alliance Commerce Code. Also, Mr. Byrnside, obstructing official business carries a felony charge to the individual, as well as fines and trade caps to the associated organization.” I warned.

“I assure you, Lieutenant, we are not part of their organization. We are just a bunch of HICs that were completely screwed until you Alliance Marines showed up to save the day. If it wasn’t for your answering our distress call, we would have probably died here—no thanks to this company we work for.  I can’t thank you enough.” He pleaded, bowing in gratitude. 

I wanted to believe him, he seemed sincere, but I had done enough work on colonies to know it wouldn’t be above a corporation to keep someone in the dark, and let them take the fall for their actions. I returned back to the TOC, and upon arrival, Reznikov approached me, “Shepard, we received a message from Gunny Maslow that satellite #2 is up and online, but Alpha-team two, missing. He indicated that he was going to look for them near the blip on the radar.”

“Dammit, we need to scout that area, before we send in our people out past the perimeter.” I growled, “So with the additional satellite online, are we able to get through to the Tripoli?” I asked, already annoyed by the situation with the settlement.

“Nothing has changed Shepard. Our signal is stronger, but the atmosphere is just scattering our data stream. We are constantly pinging, and will send out our messages in bulk once it opens up.” Reznikov explained, moving closer to show me the information on her data pad.

I took a deep breath, “Thanks...” I sighed.

“Don’t worry, Shepard, you’re doing great. Maslow would have requested permission from you, but none of our messages were getting through to you. He has plenty of experience; he knows what he is doing, Shepard.” Reznikov assured, squeezing my arm gently before she took her seat at the monitoring station.

He does, in fact, have more time-in-service than me and Reznikov combined, and that may be why the thought crossed my mind. _What if they don’t trust that I know what I’m doing…maybe they’re not confident in my leadership...and they’re intentionally not following my orders, because they believe they can get the job done better and faster on their own_. I shrugged off the absurdity, knowing it was absolute ridiculousness, unfounded paranoia, and my Marines are professionals. I returned my focus to the situation at hand, “Do we have anyone working on the 3 rd satellite?” I asked.

She shared her attention with me, and tapping at the glowing keys in front of her, “I rerouted my team few minutes ago—they should report back when they arrive, and I’ve given them authorization to begin work, whether we receive confirmation or not,” she affirmed.

“Outstanding. In the meantime, I want your engineers to work on boosting whatever signal they can get, with our equipment here.” I ordered, pacing across the floor behind Reznikov.

She turned to face me with a comforting smile, “Already on it Shepard. We’re going to make that 72-hour target.”

I felt a quickening in my center, knowing exactly what she meant, but I was too focused on the mission for my imagination to get any further than that. I took a seat at the desk beside her, and began working on a status update for the Tripoli. I sent my communication via omni-uplink, despite the lack of connectivity, knowing that it would arrive with the other messages when there was a clearing.

My team’s open-communication chatter came in and out between waves of static. It was impossible to determine who was communicating, or what they were trying to relay to the rest of their teammates. With that quickly growing old, I had Excelsior attempt to reroute directly with Maslow, to find out where he was. Our efforts were, again, met with failure—we were completely cut off from my platoon.

I was beginning to grow concerned, since none of them were able to be reached over the comms, their tracking beacons were not registering on the radar, and none of our efforts to gauge the situation were successful. I opened my broadcast to all Alliance frequencies throughout transmission area, “This is Lieutenant Shepard; all teams fall back. I repeat, all teams fall back.”

We awaited a response, but aside from static, received nothing. “What in the hell is going on here?!” I roared, demanding an explanation from anyone who thought they might have an answer.

“I don’t know Shepard. It is probably this atmospheric disturbance, but as a precautionary measure, I would advise against sending out anyone else until we receive additional information and/or reinforcements—as it could jeopardize the entire mission, if there is something out there taking out our Marines.” Reznikov somberly spoke the words that I knew to be true.

I stepped over to the communications console, and began my next transmission to the Tripoli, with an update on the situation, and informed that reinforcements need to be on standby. I hadn’t finished my message, when Corporal Gaines stood up from his terminal and said “Gunny Reznikov, you might want to see this radar.”

Reznikov and I looked to the terminal and saw a very large blip on the radar that was slowly moving toward the settlement. “What the hell is that?” I asked.

“Not sure, Ma’am. Based on its size and movement pattern, I can’t say with certainty whether it is one large badass, or several small ones in a cluster.” The communications tech explained, as he keyed some commands that he had hoped would filter the image, to more accurately show what was happening.

“Fucking hell. Alright Marines, assume defensive positions. Get your weapons ready!” I shouted, preparing my biotic barriers, testing the kinetic barriers, and ensuring that the local team was connected with my new software.

“Shepard, my squad will defend this position, but Alpha Squad is trained on heavy weaponry. If something big is out there, this is going to be one hell of a fight.” Reznikov explained, concern growing on her face.

“We’ve got this, we’re Marines—preparing for the worst is what keeps us alive! For all we know it’s just the cattle coming back to pasture.” I reassured her, and myself, but knew that she was right—if whatever out there is wanting blood, engineers are not the most adept at bringing down heavily armored enemies. I reminded myself that if Reznikov and I could hold off batarian invaders, then this should be cake.  

“Roger that, Shepard—now let’s kick some cattle!” She laughed with her fist clenched at her chest.

I ordered a sniper to go up on the satellite tower, since it was the highest point to monitor the area, and I sent another out by the LZ where our shuttle was positioned, if we needed to get out of here in a hurry, it wouldn’t do us much good if the enemy disabled the escape. I headed into Troy and informed Byrnside to get his people inside, and to stay there until someone from the Alliance gives them the authorization to leave.

Once I returned back to the operations base, I prepared another message to the Tripoli, a third update to now inform of the presence of something moving toward us on the radar, and the continued lack of communication from Alpha Squad and Bravo team-two.

“There’s something coming on the horizon!” My sniper radioed over the local channel, “It looks like one of the Makos!”

“Excelsior, try to contact them! I want to know what was happening out there.” I barked at the Chief who was now standing guard outside the tent.

Within moments the transport skidded to a stop, dust billowing around it. Out the hatch jumped four Marines, among them Gunny Maslow.

“Maslow! Report. What’s going on out there? Where are all of the teams?” I barked.

Maslow sluggishly snapped to attention in order to offer his report, but his arms and legs were visibly shaky, “Ma’am. Th-they’re all gone. All of th-th-them. I-I’ve never seen anything l-l-like it.”

A cold chill ran up my spine, to see this grizzled Marine stuttering and scared, when I had witnessed him watch his entire Squad decimated on Elpis and never lost his bearings. “Take a seat Gunny.” I said, holding him by his shoulder and moving him over to a medium-sized crate.

The other Marines were huddled around, looking equally traumatized. I handed him some water from the canteen on my belt, “Take deep breaths. Try to tell me what’s going on out there.”

He sat there looking down for a few moments, breathing in and out purposefully, before sitting up straight at attention, “Shepard…There’s a horde of thresher maws out there. They’ve taken out my entire squad, and they’re on their way to the settlement.”

I heard gasps behind me, thresher maws were notoriously fearsome to encounter. They take decimate anything unlucky enough to cross their path. They wipe out entire teams in one shot, and often don’t leave anything to send home to families. My stomach tightened, my throat began to constrict, and my heart started to pound in my ears. “So…that’s what happened to the livestock…” I muttered.

“Yeah…we found them too. There must have been hundreds of half-eaten corpses, just piled up where they were cornered between a cliff and a canyon. Shepard, these monsters rounded them up for a slaughter.” Maslow recalled, shakiness in his voice despite his best effort to be clear as possible.

I roared, “God dammit, why didn’t those colonists tell me what we’re dealing with?! Why wasn’t I briefed, that fucking thresher maws infest this planet, before I sent my people out there!?” I stomped a few feet away, seething and kicking the dirt.

“They probably didn’t know Shepard. Most people don’t live to tell the tale of seeing thresher maws.” Reznikov explained calmly over the comms.

Just then we felt the ground shaking under our feet, we knew that the threshers were getting closer. I furrowed my brow, “How many of them are there, Maslow?”

“At least a dozen... Maybe more.” He shivered in defeat.

“Well, fuck.” I spat, looking around to my Marines, who were nervously feeding off my energy, when what they needed was orders and some words of encouragement, “Alright team leaders, we’re going to defend this position. We’re going to go back to the Tripoli heroes, once again, with bragging rights that the Tripoli’s Marines brought down hell on the threshers of Akuze!”

They shouted _Ooh-rah!,_ and began setting up tactical formations for defending the area. The engineers began rigging up charges, and the infantrymen set up all of the heavy weaponry they could find. Fortunately, there was enough heavy weaponry for each member that was left, to carry at least one type of weapon. I took the M-920 Cain and so did Reznikov.

I went in the command center one last time, to send out another message to the Tripoli from the main terminal with top-priority, to informing them about the threshers and immediately request reinforcements. After I sent off the message to await the bulk-send, whenever that should happen, I went back outside, to take the spearhead of the formation.

Dust was kicking up from the underground tunnels, formed by the threshers, in their march toward us. All comms were completely silent when, suddenly, about 100 meters in the distance, a thresher emerged from the ground, its claws flailing, and neon eyes focusing on its target.  

The thresher hissed while it prepared a spit-bomb to launch in our direction, but as it hesitated to blow its load, I launched my Cain directly into its mouth, exploding its head in a spray of green and red chunks that projected in all directions.

Several Marines cheered over the comms, and Reznikov added, “If the thresher maws knew they were picking a fight with Shepard, they might have thought twice.”

“Not sure their slimy brains could understand what a slaughter they’re walking into. Nobody fucks with the Alliance. Not even threshers.” I laughed.

“Nice shot, Shepard. Keep it up!” Maslow shouted over the comms.

The celebrations were short lived, when two threshers emerged on the right flank, and surprised a group of three infantrymen. One of the beasts spat its acid attack off before the Marines could shift strike, he leaped out of the way but the splash destroyed his heavy weapon. All five members on the right flank fired a round of heavy ammunition, each strike hitting to overkill the two threshers. Their assault however, severely diminished their ammo supply.

Before they could reload, another thresher emerged and shot a spit-bomb, again at the right flank, hitting the three infantrymen and one of the engineers. The acid melted through their armor plating like it was candle wax, and didn’t finish its assault until it had eaten up everything it touched and spread on their bodies, leaving nothing but mangled puddles of blood, guts, and melted steel.

We all heard their screams over the local network, and it was harrowing, as their curdling pleas for help and cries in agony were in vain. There was nothing we could to for their injuries, since it was much too substantial for the medi-gel to be effective at all.

“God dammit Marines! Take cover when you see one of those things pop out of the ground!” Maslow shouted over the comms, he had seen this before, and we were all shaken at what we just witnessed.

Another thresher emerged from the front, and Reznikov shot at it from her heavy weapon, but missed when the creature flailed, and as it did, spat a spit-bomb. We reacted in time to leap out of the way, and behind some stacked metal crates.

“Shepard, we need reinforcements and evacuation. We can’t sustain this if there really are a dozen or more out there. Someone has got to get that last satellite back online, or we’ll all die down here.” Reznikov said, somberly.

“We have to defend this position! If we abandon it, these colonists will die.” I argued, unwilling to abandon the post.

“Let me do it, I can get in and out unnoticed if you keep them distracted.” She offered.

“Are you crazy? This whole area is swarming with threshers, and you expect me to just let you run through them, on the off chance that you’ll be able to miraculously do what an entire squad couldn’t do in fixing the satellite—that’s assuming you out there unnoticed. Not going to happen, Anke. Forget it.” I growled, angrily.

“We don’t have many choices here, Shepard! Look, out on the horizon, they’re going to overwhelm us! Don’t wait until it’s too late to try something that might be our best shot of getting out of here alive.” She shouted, pointing over me toward the quaking dust-filled horizon.

“There’s always a better choice, than just sending my troops on a death mission.” I argued, “Maslow, I want you and Excelsior to take the shuttle back to the Tripoli and get reinforcements, ASAP!  We can’t get transmissions through, and we need reinforcements or we will all die down here!”

He jumped down from atop the TOC, “I’m not leaving my Marines in the fight, Lieutenant” Maslow barked.

“I give the orders around here, and you’re going to get reinforcements, Gunny. If you hurry, there might still be a fight to come back to!” I commanded, from my position behind the crates.

He puffed and stormed off in the direction of the shuttle, when Excelsior emerged from the left flank, “You want me to abandon the battle to pilot the shuttle for reinforcements?” He asked, ensuring he heard my orders correctly.

“You’re damn right! I trust the two of you to do what needs done. Now go! On the double, Chief!” I insisted.

“Aye-aye, Ma’am” He reluctantly replied, and began running for the crater with Gunny Maslow.

I reinforced my barrier, stood up, and shot my Cain into the thresher that had just reemerged, after trying for my life only moments prior. My volley hit the creature in the abdomen, splitting it in two, with acid and blood spraying all around it. 

“You know I’m the only one authorized to fly the shuttle… Shepard, you can be so stubborn at times.” She glaringly muttered, when I ducked behind the crates where she had reinforced her kinetic barriers.

I quipped, “I knew you wouldn’t leave, even if I ordered you to. Besides, I like having you around.”  

Moments later, we heard the shuttle engines roar to life, and along with them, was the hope that reinforcements would surely arrive, and we would only have to hold this position for a short while.

To our dismay, as soon as the shuttle began to lift off, a thresher emerged at our undefended right flank, and in the time that it took us to redirect our fire, its flailing-blue-tongue projected an acid-bomb at the shuttle.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the green-grey slimy ball of nightmarish destruction flew in an upward trajectory with the lifting shuttle, and before Excelsior could react, the acid impacted directly on the windshield, tearing away the barriers and the shields, and melting into the cockpit. The Excelsior’s screams echoed across the radio, and as the shuttle began descending, Maslow calmly said “Tell my wife I…” as the shuttle crashed into fireball, that hissed with the sound of acid continuing to melt the wreckage.

Two marines on the left flank shot their heavy weapons into the monster, exploding its head, causing its limp body to fall on its side with blood and acid flowing out.

My jaw fell agape, and I felt a churning in my stomach that I can only describe as desperate rage, my face felt numb and devoid of emotion when I looked to Anke through my visor, and took a deep breath, the words failing to form on my lips, and my lungs refusing to push them out.

“Shepard, we have to get that satellite back online. We’re running out of time.” She said confidently.

It was all I could do to shake my head in refusal—I couldn’t send her to a fate, like the one I just ordered my most seasoned Marines to. My lips pursed, and I hung my head, my nostrils flaring to push and pull air into my lungs, the battle around me blurring my sense, and I heard yet another thresher emerge behind me, and while I was regaining my bearings, Reznikov launched a precise round into its head before it could attack.

Reznikov took off her helmet and crouched in front of me, pushing against my shoulders with both hands, “Shepard, we have to do this! For fucks sake, don’t you think that I would rather play it safe, so that we can live out our dreams, making love on every corner of the galaxy, and growing old in each other’s arms?” She said, tears forming in her blue eyes as they pierced into my soul, “But there isn’t any other way. We will both die down here on this forsaken hell hole, if we don’t get that satellite back online and get reinforcements down here.”

The lump in my throat was threatening to suffocate me, and the assault from the Marines weaponry around me was soft and distant, compared to the piercing of her words on my ears.

I forced air in through my mouth and closed my eyes, intentionally giving a nod in acknowledgement, only an engineer could get the satellite back online, and there were only two left, of which she was one of them, and the most senior at that.

I felt the tug of her fingertips pulling my chin up, and her other hand, unfastened the seal on my helmet. The burn of salty tears clouded my eyes as she pulled me into her, and I blinked to see her sapphires gazing into my soul. My jagged breaths threatened to break me into tears, and I felt the soft tremble of her lips brush against mine, “I love you, Eris. I always have, and I always will.” She whispered, as she pulled away and fastened her helmet.

The coldness left behind from where her lips touched, cut through my nerves like daggers, and I felt my face grow flushed, my fists clenched, I was enraged. If the best Marine I’ve ever known, the only woman who has ever stolen my heart, was going to storm through a nest of thresher maws, then I’ll take down every last one of those ugly creatures that I can in her wake.

“This isn’t goodbye! You’re going to figure this out, and we’ve got your back.” I sternly bellowed, and reattached my helmet.

I ordered that the remaining Marines fall in behind the crates nearby. The threshers were emerging every few minutes, and relentlessly devouring our ammo. We were down to just a few shots for the heavy weapons, and it took a lot from our standard weapons to bring down just one of the monsters because of the inaccuracy of heavy weapons at any range, and in waiting for them to come close, it opened my Marines up to being injured or killed with little time to react to their acid-bombs.

We caught a break between thresher attacks and informed my troops on the situation, “We _have_ to get that last satellite back online. I’m sending Gunny Reznikov out to effect the repairs; Corporal Santos is going along with her in the Mako to offer support while she gets it the satellite up. The rest of us will lay suppressive fire, and do everything in our power to distract the threshers from their objective.” I explained to the Marines who were performing maintenance on their weapons in preparation for the next wave of threshers.

Reznikov and Santos began discussing their plan and checked the equipment needed to get the job done, and I spoke with the next highest ranking Marine Service Chief Franz, what my expectations were for the remainder of the mission, and our protocol for the mission objectives should me and/or Reznikov go down in the fight. As I was briefing him, the threshers began their assault again, this time they were in the middle of the settlement and attacking the pre-fabs which the colonists were hiding in.

“Dammit! This is it people! Reznikov, that’s your distraction, we will keep them off your back. Take the Mako, and get that satellite back online! You’d better make it back in one piece too, that’s an order!” I shouted across the comms.   

The screams of terrified colonists drifted in our direction, mixed in with the dust and distinct sound of acid burning away at their shelters. Reznikov took off in the Mako, as I led my team into the settlement to kill off as many of the threshers as possible.

As soon as we arrived, we found that many of the colonists had futilely attempted fleeing on foot, rather than try their luck hiding in the homes. I launched a biotic singularity/warp combo at the thresher which had a colonist dangling out of its mouth in a half-effort to eat its victim. My combo did scantily more than weaken its armor enough for a barrage of bullets to bring the monster down.

“Quit running! Stand up and fight for your lives!” I shouted between shotgun blasts at the colonists who were fleeing. One of them stopped and looked at me like I was speaking Alieneese, to which I threw a modded Shuriken pistol at him and said “Fight dammit! Your life depends on it!” The pistol wavered in his hands, but he fired at the threshers who were emerging all around the settlement.

One by one, the settlers desperate enough to flee eventually took up arms, and fought alongside me and my Marines, in a valiant last stand for their territory.

The close proximity of the threshers, allowed me to detonate the charges set up by the engineers, and when they emerged in range we took down three threshers in one fell swoop.

My team of Marines shouted cheers through their comms, in response to our targeted attack, the engineers again proved their usefulness, and going off Maslow’s estimates, the thresher threat should be down to only a few—though, with our dwindling supplies, just a few thresher maws was going to be no simple task.

Without warning, the ground stopped rumbling. I assumed it meant that we had scared the remaining threshers back underground, and were encroaching on winning the battle. I radioed to my last sniper for a report, to which she replied that the dust was settling on the horizon.

I ordered my team to maintain their positions, as badly as I was hoping that this was the end of the attack, I knew better than to disengage. I took the opportunity to send a couple Marines back to the operations center to see if they could find any scraps of ammunition left that we could use to defend the settlement, if the threshers decided to regroup and attack.

“Reznikov, what’s your situation?” I asked over the local comms.

“Doing fine Shepard. We’ve already begun repairs on the satellite. From the looks of it, shouldn’t take more than a half an hour.” She replied promptly through a static transmission.

“Make it fifteen! I mean it, Reznikov. I want you back here double time!” I demanded, before turning my attention to a traumatized colonist, mourning over the pulpy-acid-burned body of their loved one.

I couldn’t find the words to offer the mourning husband any comfort, I could only watch as he sobbed uncontrollably over the mutilated corpse of his wife. Conveying sympathy in a moment of despair isn’t something that anyone is particularly good at—I preferred to let my gun do the talking—but watching him touched something inside of me. For the first time in my life, I could relate to the loss he was experiencing, and my stomach flipped upside down, as my love for Anke rushed over me and the fact she was out there exposed to fucking thresher maws was a reality that I hated through to my core.

Purposefully, I refocused my attention to my team, and walked over to Franz, “Reposition the team in more tactical positions. I’m not sure we’ve seen the last of the threshers” I ordered, inspecting the condition that my Marines were in. Most of us had sustained some superficial acid burns to our armor from the acid-bombs, but nothing that penetrated the skin. Our kinetic barriers did next-to-nothing to stop the acid once it impacted.  

The two Marines returned with an additional crate of ammo, which they had filled with munitions from the fallen in the first wave, from which they even managed to acquire a few heavy weapon rounds.

I set up a formation that would most effective at defending the settlement, and provided a clear line of sight to the satellite team. Several minutes had passed since the threshers dispersed, and the colonists had begun emerging from their shelters to investigate the damage and to see who among the dead was their own loved ones, against my orders to stay indoors. I didn’t have the resources to redirect disobeying civilians, I was too focused on ensuring if the threshers came back that we had a strong defense.

As predicted, the ground began tremoring again, this time with more intensity, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Alright Marines! They’re back, lets send them running one last time!” I rallied over the comms.

“Ooh-rah!!!” Several Marines shouted over the radio.

“We’ve almost got it online Shepard.” Reznikov added.

As expected, a thresher emerged at the edge of the settlement, launched an acid-bomb directly into the center of the village, sending civilians running and screaming once more. Those who had fought before were nowhere to be seen, having retreated to somewhere else. Two Marines on the left flank launched heavy artillery into the thresher, damaging it considerably, but not killing it outright. My team directed small arms fire into the thresher, while it frantically hurled spit-bombs at our position.

Just as we saw the thresher fall limp, two more emerged in front, and a much larger one erupted from the ground in the distance. I ran to take cover beside my sniper, and ordered him to take a shot at the behemoth, while the rest of my team focused on the two in front.

As I had feared, the sniper fire did little to distract the gargantuan beast, and much to my dismay it was not interested in the settlement. No it wanted my team that was working on the satellite.

It launched a massive spit-bomb toward Reznikov and I radioed “Anke! Watch out!”

Through my visor amplifier I saw that my message was received but it didn’t matter, the size of the bomb was enough to completely melt through the satellite tower. I saw Reznikov and Santos rolling down the hill, and away from the sizzling destruction that had nearly taken their lives.

“Fucking hell! God dammit, no!” I growled through gritted teeth, realizing our only hope for getting through to the Tripoli now lost, and our communications relied solely upon a chance breakthrough in the atmosphere.

Immediately before returning fire, giving orders, or checking on my beloved, I readied an emergency rescue beacon from my omni-tool that would alert the Tripoli to our position whether I was dead or not. In the time that it took to prepare my beacon, I saw that Reznikov was pinned down, and my team was having difficulty taking down the now-five thresher maws surrounding us.

 _That must be the alpha out there with Anke. I need to take him out if I’m going to get the upper hand in this battle._ I contemplated, trying to figure out my next maneuver, before they had us completely overwhelmed.

“Shepard, we’re pinned down. The satellite is destroyed, and the Mako has superior firepower. I’m going to make for it, and come back to help defend the colony with you.” Reznikov said, her voice filled with resolve despite the dire situation.

“Anke, the alpha has targeted you. Maintain your position. I repeat, maintain your position.” I ordered, knowing that if the alpha hits the Mako, it would not only destroy our equipment but it would surely kill Anke.

Between shots on the threshers surrounding us, I was able to make out in the distance Reznikov and Santos firing up the Mako machine at the alpha thresher.

“Goddammit Reznikov! I gave you an order to hold your position! What the hell are you thinking!?” I shouted over the comms.

The Mako continued making evasive maneuvers, and shooting the main canon at the alpha, and while I awaited a response, I was hitting the nearby threshers with biotics and armor piercing shotgun rounds. We had taken out two of the five threshers, and figured out a pattern to evade the thresher spit-bombs, we were in a brief rhythm to the battle, but just as we had found it, I noticed the alpha had severely damaged the Mako, and it was smoking from the acid eating through the armor plating.

“Anke you have to get out of there!” I pleaded over the comms, and received no reply.

Just then a thresher emerged behind me in the center of the settlement, and launched an acid-bomb directly into the center of my team, killing all three of them instantly.

It was getting harder to breathe, every action I took was of muscle memory, I felt completely out of control. I launched a single round from my Cain, directly into the thresher’s face, exploding the beast into bits and pieces.

It was down to me, the sniper, Reznikov and Santos. I looked to my sniper and said “Private Romero, I need you to cover me. It is up to us to take out these threshers. Do what you can; I’m going to in to get what’s left.”

With that, I ran toward the still-melting corpses of my Marines and acquired what ammo I could, shooting my boomstick into the threshers when possible. The sniper continued making precision shots into the smaller threshers, while I fired heavy weaponry that took them out with one hit. As I launched my Cain into the thresher in front, I couldn’t help but notice the action out on the battle field with Reznikov and the alpha.

Just as I was about to fire a second round into the thresher, I saw the Mako making its way toward us, engines smoking and hull covered in thresher spit, sizzling through the armor.

“Anke, hurry! One more hit and the Mako is going to blow!” I plead, my anxious heart hoping the alpha ignores their escape.

“I’m coming to you, Eris! Cover me!” She said, as the alpha prepared its next spit-bomb.

I launched my heavy round at the beast, hoping to prevent it from launching its attack at the disabled Mako…but the distance was too much, and I missed. The acid-bomb had perfect trajectory for the path of the Mako, and I watched in numb horror as the impact tore the wheels off the Mako and it exploded in an orange flame when compressed gasses met the thresher’s acid. I stood in shock, watching my lover perish right before my eyes in the fiery-melted Mako—no screaming, no cries…nothing. She was gone, in that instant, and my heart shattered.

“What?! Noooo! Oh fuck…fuck… NO!” I screamed and blood-boiling-rage filled my chest as tears flooded by eyes. I took off in a sprint out on the horizon toward the alpha, running past the thresher corpses, and without consideration, left my sniper to fight the last thresher by herself.

I was out for blood revenge, and knew that I was dead no matter what, but I would make sure to take that thresher down with me.

I charged toward it, my shotgun firing non-stop, when it overheated I swapped it for an SMG, and when it overheated, I used my dual wield-pistols. Once I finally reached biotics-range, I hit it with everything I had. I pulled energy from the depths of my mind, body, and spirit to hurl at the beast, who had just decimated everything that matters to me.

All of my desperate attacks were in vain, because it was too large, too powerful, its armor too thick, even after the barrage that the Mako was unleashing, my puny attacks were merely annoyances. A heavy round shot past me on the right, and struck the alpha in the torso, and I realized that my sniper still had my back. I took a deep breath, knowing that I would die here with this beast, but I would take him with me.

The alpha was clearly damaged by the hit, so I took the opportunity to continue the onslaught with my shotgun and biotic combos. I recharged my barriers, and ran full force toward the towering beast, launching novas, warps, reaves, singularities, anything that I could muster at him. Once I was practically underneath it, I kept hitting it with throw/warp combos and hammering away at its damaged torso with my shotgun.

I was in a groove of unleashing pain upon the alpha, when he retreated back underneath the soil. “Come back out you coward! Show me your ugly face, so I can blow it off!” I shouted at the ground, hoping to provoke the creature.

As I taunted the thresher, I heard another agonizing scream across my radio—it was my sniper. I turned back to her, and saw the heavy weapon round blaze from its chamber, just as she got hit with an acid-bomb. I saw the projectile hit the thresher in its face, at least she took the thresher out with her, but now… I was alone…in the middle of a desolate field…littered with thresher and Marine corpses…

My only options were wait and get killed by surprise, or provoke the monster out on my terms and die in a showdown. So, I powered my barriers, and focused my biotics throughout my body, as I began shooting into the ground “Come out and fight, you fuck!” I screamed.

In an instant, the ground underneath me began to break away, the thresher was emerging to swallow me whole. I roared through gritted teeth, “You picked the wrong Marine, you ugly bastard!”  The blue aura swirled around me and I twisted it into a massive singularity beneath me, while I biotically propelled my legs to push me into the air. With its pike-like teeth opened underneath me, I hovered above its gaping maw, my singularity stationary beneath me, while I pulled biotic energy into my arms and manipulated the focused my sinewy energy into a warp. As gravity began to pull me into the thresher’s grasp, I released the warp into the singularity, unleashing a biotic explosion that tore the beast’s mouth into shreds, and launched me even higher into the air. I used the momentum, and height advantage to reach for my my heavy weapon, and using the last round that I had in my arsenal, I snarled my nose and gritted my teeth, staring down into the fate that awaited me, I pulled the trigger on the Cain, and launched the round directly into the alpha’s throat cavity.

The explosion was cataclysmic and launched me through the air. I watched as the force propelled me away from the exploding alpha, its upper body splattering in a bloody mist. My eyes closed as my body was pummeled by the force that overtook my barriers, hurling me through the air and toward the ground. When I collided, unconsciousness swallowed me in a cold-numbness, that I welcomed as a respite from the pain of loss. My last thought was the knowledge that the eternal peace of death was awaiting me.

**  
**


	16. A Mother's Love

2177 – Hawking Eta/Century/Akuze-orbit/SSV Tripoli

Sometimes the price of war is too much to bear. How does someone dictate that some must perish in order for others to survive? To carry the burden, that accomplishing the mission often means sending people to die, in order to win the battle, and emerge victorious in the war… It was my orders, under the powers bestowed to me, by the rights and privileges arbitrarily attributed to my rank in the Alliance Navy, which sent 24 Marines to their deaths, among them, my best friend and lover Anke Reznikov.

The thresher maws of Akuze claimed my entire platoon of Marines, and yet, I was spared through some miracle of badassery, or maybe it was luck and divine intervention, to save me for the war that I would face in the years to come, to be honest I’m not really sure how I survived, even to this day.

I awoke in a medbay several hours later. A woman in a white coat, stood at my bedside and placed her cold hand upon mine, “Lieutenant, you’re alive. We brought you to our facility for triage and we’ve contacted your command, to inform them that you’re in safe hands with us.” The salt and pepper haired woman said softly.

The images and sounds of the battle flooded my senses, the screams, the images of melting bodies, the rage that had nowhere to go, turned to a stone pit in my stomach. Thresher maws weren’t an organization that I could get revenge on…they weren’t a military enemy…but they had just killed every last one of my Marines.

I let a sigh from my lips and closed my eyes tightly, hoping unconsciousness would steal me away from this reality once more.

“Lieutenant, there aren’t any words to make what you had to endure any easier. I hope you can find peace in knowing that you and your comrades are heroes.” She said softly.

A warm tear escaped the side of my eyes, and ran down behind my ear, into my hair. My chest was heavy, and the emotions of what I was left to make sense of, began penetrating my mind…Anke was gone, and all of my Marines were dead.

I couldn’t breathe.

My body labored to fill itself with oxygen, and I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my face. I covered my face, in order to shield myself from the onlookers, but it didn’t really matter if they watched, I was utterly devastated.

I laid there for several minutes sobbing, allowing the intense emotions an outlet. The fight was over, and now I had to pick up the pieces. Once my situational awareness kicked in, I sat up on the bed and looked around. I realized I didn’t recognize this facility, and turned to the doctor “Where am I?”

“You’re in the Akuze underground research facility. Our scientists rescued you after your battle with the threshers, we patched up your injuries with first aid, but you will want to have them looked at by your physician for reconstruction, I’m sure.” She explained stoically.

“Thank you. So you’re the ones running this place? Who left those colonists out there to die?” I asked, stifling back any emotions I may have felt, but lacked the energy to act on.

“It is more complicated than that Lieutenant, but that you are correct. This facility oversees the mining operations, and coordinates with other organizations for the distribution and sale of raw materials.” She offered, and stepped closer to me, “I am certain you would rather be with your people, Lieutenant. If you’re feeling up to it, we can arrange for transportation to reunite you with the settlement, and the Marines who are currently investigating over there.”

Words failing me, I closed my eyes and gave an affirmative nod.  

True to their word, they delivered me back to the settlement, where I was met with the unwelcomed sights and smells of the destruction that we had created only hours prior.

I was greeted by Commander Estrada, and Jacob Byrnside, who patted me on the back and reassured me that I had saved the colony, and that I was a hero.

“The only heroes here, Mr. Byrnside, are the ones who gave their lives for this sandbox”. I spat through the grimace that was upon my face.

The XO arranged for me to be transported immediately back to the Tripoli, for debriefing and to be examined by the medical chief. I didn’t resist, I wanted to get the hell off this planet, and never look back.

I walked to the transport landing zone, and watched as they carried body bags filled with the remains of my Marines. I began trembling at the sight, and I think at that point if I hadn’t acted, the Akuze massacre would have utterly destroyed my mind that day. I took a deep breath, and began helping the Marines carry the last of the bodies for this trip. I didn’t know whose body I was carrying, but we all swore an oath to the Alliance, that for the sake of humanity, if it was required, we would sacrifice everything, up to our very lives—and these Marines fulfilled their oath.

I believed that I should have been among the dead, and that I didn’t deserve to live after getting my entire platoon wiped out...after sending Anke to her death.   

The trip through the atmosphere back to the Tripoli was a somber one. No one dared speak to me, and I had nothing to say. The smell of the acid that had killed my troops was putrid in my nostrils, and sickening, because despite the bodies being in containers, the gasses still escaped from their bodies into the shuttle… Merely recalling it, for the sake of retelling my story makes me sick all over again.

Upon docking with the Tripoli, we were greeted by the Captain and a funeral detail, as we disembarked. I waited for the Marines to unload the corpses before exiting last, all I could do was sit there and watch… It was difficult for me to face them, but I forced one foot in front of the other, and stood at attention at the door of the shuttle.

“Present Arms.” The Captain ordered, as she snapped her salute and the other Marines followed her command.

I forced myself to hold my head level, the guilt of my failure making gravity especially heavy around my neck, as I walked forward to greet her and return the salute.

I was sent immediately to the medbay to be examined for the injuries that I received in battle. Dr. Tremens patched me up with some regeneration serum and ointments, and put me on medical orders for the acid splatter on my back, a gash down my right thigh and forearm, as well as severe psychological trauma exposure, all which he would follow up over the upcoming weeks to monitor healing.

After the medbay, I made my way to the Officer’s deck to file my reports, and prepare personal next of kin messages for each Marine that was killed under my command.

I didn’t keep track of how long it took to finish my task, but I know the mission report took the least of amount of time. I didn’t know all of my Marines very well, in fact many of them were new faces, that I hadn’t become very acquainted with prior to this mission. However, those who I considered friends, such as Maslow, Excelsior and Santos, it was hard to send their next of kin the news of their family member’s death…but the most difficult of all was of course Anke Reznikov.

I forced my fingers to type the message, each letter of each word took everything within me to muster at times—tears often flooded my eyes and blurred my vision. No matter how I tried to form the words, they never seemed to do justice to how wondrous a woman, and an outstanding Marine Anke was, but especially that she was my best friend, and how I loved her and the amazing experiences that we had together—and how I also mourned for the experiences we would never have…

The Captain would need a casualty report, before she could pass the information along or sign off on it, but I knew that there wouldn’t be any survivors…the threshers didn’t leave much after their attacks. After I sent the reports and letters to the Captain for final review, I left for my bunk and tried to sleep, often awoken in a cold sweat with my heart pounding in my ears, and the smell of acid lingering in my nose. We never found her body… and since we bunked together, I was tasked with collecting Anke’s belongings to be sent to her family. For myself, I kept the extra set of dog tags that she stored in her locker, as well as the data pad connected to her omni-tool, that held the photos she took over the years—maybe it was wrong, but I didn’t care, cherishing her memory got me through some really dark times, and I believe it’s what she would have wanted, rather than collecting dust somewhere in her parent’s storage.

The first couple weeks passed so very slowly, my wounds were healing rapidly, with the cellular rejuvenation treatments, and I had been talking with the ship’s psychologist, but my mind was in tatters at this point. I kept to myself, practicing biotic meditations to keep my mind focused, and my emotions tempered, while we remained in orbit over the planet. I wasn’t alone in my psychological damage, the shipmates whose mission was retrieval of bodies, were also traumatized, and the mood aboard the Tripoli was melancholy to say the least, with 1/3 of the crew dead.

After 29 days, we finally concluded the mission at Akuze, and set back to the Arcturus Station to debrief and resupply for new Marines, but it was also where I would catch transport back to Earth for N-School or choose to let my contract lapse and get out for good.

Everything about the Tripoli, reminded me of something I had experienced with Anke at some point, and my heart ached constantly. I avoided conversations with any crewmen, who wanted to offer their consolation or talk about my heroism, even Commander Estrada.

The psychologist worked with me through the trauma, and I expressed how I was angry and numb, sad and utterly overwhelmed by the amount of loss… She seemed to think it was a normal part of the grieving process, but I opted for the amygdala-shot to prevent lasting trauma, just to be on the safe side—I’ve seen what unresolved trauma does to Marines. With my body cured, albeit some minor scarring, and my mind in the process of healing—I knew that time would mend all of my wounds, no matter how I wanted to hold on to them.

Late one evening, I was doing maintenance on my armor-suit down the engineering bay, which was something that offered distraction. Since my return from Akuze, I had focused on making my gear and my surroundings superior to the military standard, and found relief in controlling my environment, when I had so much lack of control everywhere else in my life.

“Shepard, stop what you’re doing.” She ordered, “I want to talk with you. Off the record.” Captain Mattock said, moving her head in the direction of some crates.

I set down my tools and obliged her, following across the bay, and to the crates where we took a seat.

The middle-aged, strawberry-blond, senior officer, sat across from me, and leaned in casually with her elbows resting on her knees, “Most Marines never have to experience what you did. In fact, the ones who do, and live to fight another fight, often became the ones whose life grows beyond themselves, and we sing cadences about them, until their names live on forever in the history books.”

“I don’t want fame, Captain… in fact, I think I’ve seen, and done, all there is with the Marines…” I muttered in defeat.

“Shepard, if that’s what you want, you’ve earned it, and humanity looks up to you because of it. But if you think that giving up, and running away, will change the fact that you’re our best hope on the galactic front, and a symbol of human perseverance, then you’re not as smart as I’m giving you credit for.” She explained, her brow furrowing, “Marines like you come once in a lifetime, sometimes once in two lifetimes. You’re a survivor Shepard, a hero for all of the human race. You’re the embodiment of everything that makes human beings the most amazing creatures to crawl out of the primordial ooze, and all of the galactic empires are seeing it...in you.”

“Captain, I appreciate your effort, but I really don’t need a pep talk.” I said curtly.

“It’s exactly what you need Shepard. You’re having trouble living with yourself after what happened on Akuze. But I’ve read the reports, and even watched the local camera footage. You couldn’t have done anything that would have resulted in a different outcome. You had limited intel, you followed the regs, and you and your platoon gave it everything you had. Sometimes the enemy prevails, but this time Shepard, you emerged victorious, even if the cost was one you didn’t want to pay.” Mattock sternly spoke, “You’re the finest Marine I’ve ever seen Shepard, and accepting the loss of your troops is going to be something that defines who you are. But the losses to humanity, as a whole, if you were to turn your back on the threats we have yet to face, are incomprehensible. I believe with everything in me that if it were any other Marine in charge on Akuze, we would have suffered a complete and total loss, but you saved the colony, and you came out alive.”

I didn’t say anything in response, there was nothing I could say, no argument I could muster.

“Look Shepard, N-School awaits you, and it will be a good match for where you are now. N’s often work on small teams, and don’t usually carry the burdens of crew management like regular commissioned Marines. If you want to turn it down, and walk away, I will accept your resignation. But I know that this life is in your blood—hell you were born into it—and if you don’t get it together, and make something out of this loss, it will destroy you. I’ve seen it happen all too often in my career.” She assured, placing a hand on my shoulder as she stood to walk away.  “Good luck, Lieutenant Shepard. May the Gods watch over you.”

I mulled over what the Captain had said, trying to find holes in her argument, in effort to convince myself that running from this confrontation with reality was the best option. I was lying in my bunk that night, missing Anke, and wishing I could vent to her about what I was going through my head, in order to get her insightful perspective. Then I thought back to the conversation we had earlier in the day, before we went to Akuze, about her plans to leave the Marines. My mind was racing, and I wouldn’t sleep until the internal argument was assuaged. _She would have gone on to do amazing things…_ _If only I had known, I wouldn’t have let her go to that tower. Fuck it, I’d have let those colonists die too…no I wouldn’t have, goddammit. Why did this have to happen?! …I’m meant to be alone…I’m just a jarhead grunt who has but one purpose in life: to kill. The moment I find warmth and beauty in this cold galaxy it was violently ripped from me… So be it, then. If this is my fate, I’ll just have to accept it. Anke thought I was indispensable to the Marines with my biotics, so that’s exactly what I’ll be._

I awoke the next morning with no other purpose than to be a Marine, no more dreams of a future that could never be, no beautiful attachments to beloved friends. I chewed some Corporal’s ass for not standing at parade rest when speaking with me in the chow line, and went about shaking down some of the crewmen who were getting too familiar with their surroundings, and had gotten far more relaxed than was standard for a war ship.

After a day of whipping up any unfortunate crewmen who got in my line of sight, I went back to my room and squared myself away, shining every buckle, every boot, and ensured that everything was inspection-ready.

Maybe I got over-zealous, but it didn’t matter, there was nothing else to live for besides the Corps, and that’s what I owed to the men and women that died under my command.

I forced my emotions down, deciding that there was no sense in dwelling on things I can’t change…I avoided sleep as much as possible, since the smells and the sounds from Akuze had been giving me nightmares. I knew that with time they would go away—but for today, they’re too vivid to deal with. The doc was giving me some meds to help my brain process the trauma without leaving any lasting effects, but as I mentioned, part of me believed that I deserved whatever haunting memories my mind held onto for what had happened.

I was laying in my bunk, racing thoughts, never focusing on any one thing for too long, my biotic meditations were really the only reprieve from ruminating that I had—I found myself ever-thankful to Zephyra for her lessons, and made myself a note to myself that one day I’d let her know just how grateful I am for it.

I was in a shallow meditation when a faint vibration of my omni-tool caught my attention. The distraction was welcomed, and when I opened the message I found it was from my mother.  

_Eris,_

_I read the reports, and I am so very thankful you’re alive. It is unfathomable how you must be feeling. I’ve arranged to get some leave time, and I will be waiting for you in the Sol system when you arrive in a couple weeks for ICT._

_Take care of yourself, my daughter. I love you dearly._

A tear escaped my eye, and I pushed a deep breath out of my nose. It was one of those moments when, even though I was a grown woman, a calloused Marine, with confirmed kill counts in the hundreds, I still longed for my mother’s love to ease the pain. The scars we receive in life are often worse than the injuries themselves…they fade, but they never go away completely, and they forever change something about you.

Thing carried on like that until we reached Arcturus, my wounds had healed and the trauma had eased, but I went on obsessing over details, and squaring away anyone and anything that wasn’t up to the military standard. Most of the crewmen had learned to avoid me, while others excelled under my iron fist, and appreciated the high levels of excellence I was enforcing on the Tripoli.

I was packing up for my departure, inventorying all of the belongings I had gathered over the course of my tour of duty, and really my whole life. I noticed that everything I owned (minus military gear), fit in one footlocker, and I felt that pang of grief, for the life that I was going to build with Anke, as it tugged at my heart once more.

My day of departure arrived, and while I would miss the constant reminders of the memories I shared with Anke over the last few years, it was also symbolic of moving on, and marked the next phase in my journey of life, and while it was new, there was nothing bright or fresh about it, no, it was hardened, bitter, and wanting revenge.

The Tripoli’s crew gave me a small farewell gathering, and the Captain and XO awarded me with a Purple Heart, a V device for my Golden Star, and an oak leaf cluster on the Distinguished Unit Citation, for my actions on Akuze. I felt bile rise onto my tongue as they pinned them on me…to me, nothing meritorious happened down there.

In my Dress Blues once again, my chest beaming with rare awards and the heavy weight of their cost, that few Marines have ever been able to shoulder, and live to continue fighting… I couldn’t leave the Tripoli fast enough.

I boarded the transport for the relay, and made the trip to Sol alone, in tow was two cases that held all of my belongings. On the journey, I contemplated my future, and I decided that if I made it through N-School I would stay in the Marines and never rethink it, but if I didn’t make it, which was likely since it has a 95% fail rate, then I would see what life held for me in college, maybe eventually find out what Anke was dreaming about with making changes from the council chambers.

My mother made arrangements to meet me at the Charon relay station, so I disembarked at the station hub, and waited for her to arrive with a transport to pick me up. I sat in the crowded hub filled with colonists, and Alliance personnel on leave or headed out for training—since that’s the only reason Alliance personnel were sent to Sol these days.

I didn’t have to wait long, before my mother messaged me to meet her in Dock 18, so I grabbed my belongings, and headed down the crowded terminal, where I found her with a fighter corvette that she must have acquired from a nearby outpost.

A smile beamed, as she watched me approach her, and she walked to greet me, then pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. I buried my face into her neck, her familiar spicy perfume was nostalgic, comforting, and reminded me of better times. My chest began to tighten, as I held back the feelings that threatened to flood through right there. She felt me stiffen and cooed, “It’s going to be alright, dear. We have a few days to ourselves, before you have to be at ICT.”

I pulled back and looked at her, mist in my eyes, making my nose tingle when I took in the sight of my mother, whose auburn hair was beginning to grey, but her eyes were vibrantly blue as ever. She stood tall and proud, her strength reminding me that she is who made me what I am. I felt instantly reassured, even if it was only slightly.

The trip through the local cluster was fascinating with my mother, it seemed that she had a story for every inch of the system. She told me of her war stories, from when she had joined the Navy and had gotten into the First Contact War in her first tour of duty, then thereafter became a mother, which put a damper on her recklessness. We stopped by the planets to witness their glory and bask in the beauty of where we originated. She was from Earth, and so seeing the planets was a common occurrence for her, during her early years with the Alliance, but she marveled that their beauty had not faded despite their familiarity.

On our approach to Earth, I was in awe at how the tiny blue marble turned into a great and vast orb with easily distinguishable continents and oceans. It may have looked like any other planet, but it carries special significance—it’s our home.

She finally told me of our plans, she wanted me to see where she grew up, and to do so, she was going to take me to the Shepard family estate for some R&R. I had no idea we owned property on Earth, it was such an expensive and rare commodity, almost unheard of except by those who were rich, and we weren’t rich by any means. For her to have never even mentioned it was off-putting. I decided for her keep this secret from me she must have had her reasons. Also, she has always been a very private woman, only telling me what was necessary for me to understand, assuming it was relevant in the first place—she’s a very pragmatic person to say the least.

The medium-sized terraform planet that was our home grew, and she adjusted her course to begin entering the atmosphere. The entry in the fighter was a rough one, which is to be expected since soldiers are not afforded the luxuries of civilian-class ships, nor are they high-ranking enough to warrant added comforts. When we broke through the clouds, I watched as we emerged into sparse traffic above the Atlantic Ocean.

It didn’t take long for me to make out the region that she was taking us, “North America?” I asked.

“Yes, dear. We are going to a place called Cape Cod.” She answered.

I had heard of it, and located the Massachusetts state at least once in school, but it may as well have been any other spot on the map for all I knew about it.

We began our descent, and my mother called to the estate for assistance with our luggage. A few minutes later, we set down softly on the landing pad in the middle of a grassy field. When I opened the shuttle door, I was greeted by warm air and a salty-cool wind that blew through my hair. I closed my eyes, and filled my lungs, feeling my senses overwhelmed by the experience. _This is Earth...this is my home…it feels so alien. The only home I have ever known has been the Alliance Navy…home was with Anke at my side._ I felt my chest growing heavier so I expelled my lungs of their contents, letting go of the feelings, in order to just be present in the moment with this new experience. _Zephyra taught me that, she showed me her first moments on her home…_ I recalled her significant impact once more.  

Within moments we were greeted by two middle-aged women and a younger man. “It is wonderful to see you again ma’am. We have prepared your rooms, and hope that you will enjoy your visit.” The older of the two women said, as the other two stacked our luggage onto a self-propelled cart.

My mother nodded and smiled, “Thank you, Stephanie. It feels good to be back.”

She turned to me, her aviator sunglasses reflecting my image, and she took a deep breath through her nose, “I love the smell of the air here. It’s so natural, crisp, an unlike anywhere else in the galaxy.” 

I smiled, and asked, “Is that the smell of the sea?”

She nudged my shoulder and laughed, “Of course! No matter how many years go by, this place hardly ever changes.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and motioned forward, “Come Eris, I want to show you around.”

We walked along a pebble path that led through a small orchard of apple trees that were filled with tiny fruits that would eventually mature for a harvest. Around the other side of the estate, was a modest vineyard of grapes, also too young for eating, but would also ripen within months. My mother told me of the grandness of the harvest, and how it is what everyone waits all season for, watching the fruits mature patiently, until the time was right.

“I never cared much for farming…it was too constricting a lifestyle for me. That’s why when I turned 18 I hitched a ride on the first transport I could take to the nearest Alliance recruiter, and never looked back.” My mother said, almost shamefully.

“What about your family? You’ve never mentioned them…but I guess I never thought to ask either.” I prodded, as we continued to walk.

She pointed out into the unkempt area of the estate, and redirected us off the path, and we walked through the grassy field, toward a solitary tree setting off in the distance. As we drew nearer, I began to see why she never talked about them, judging by the tombstones, they were dead.

She spoke, mournfully, “Eris, these are the gravesites of my parents and sister. They died when I was around 16 years old.”

My lips pursed as I watched the expression on my mother’s face stiffen. Though hidden by the sunglasses, her eyes could not hide the heaviness that her heart was feeling.

“I always stayed late after school, and football was a sport that I was heavily into, sort of how you were with martial arts. Anyway, my family was traveling to do some business in the Asia-Pacific region, when their skycar malfunctioned.” She let a deep sigh, “You see Eris, compared to the relatively-safe element zero, our antiquated nuclear energy was highly unstable. The flight technology that we used back then was produced with nuclear cores, and when one of them exploded, they rarely left survivors.”

“You were left all alone?” I asked.

“Pretty much. I had an uncle who took guardianship over me until I came of age, but he lived in New York, so he appointed a custodian to watch over me, in order for me to stay in my comfort zone. He had no interest in my parent’s estate, and neither did I, not really, so in exchange for their efforts, the staff takes a large percentage from the harvest profits, and they maintain the property in my absence in exchange for room and board in the guest estate.” She hesitated, and looked to me, “It will be yours one day if you want it, I just don’t have the heart to sell it.” She offered, revealing more to me about her past in the last half-hour than she ever had.

“I suppose it makes sense why you never brought me here. Though, I’m wondering, why now?” I said softly.

She hung her head and murmured, “I have begun to realize that the Alliance has been the only life you’ve ever known, and a part of me feels guilty for that. I keep tabs on you, and I’ve been seeing the reports, reading your files…and to everyone else your heroism has almost become synonymous with the name Shepard. To me, you’re my only daughter…and I…” She shifted her weight and lifted her aviators to rest them on top of her head, “Eris, I want you to follow your heart, wherever it may lead. You have made me more proud than a mother could ever wish for, but that has come at a great cost. I’ve never seen a Marine survive the things you have, gain the fame that you’ve gotten in such a short time, and still have the drive, courage, and commitment to keep pushing through to get the next job done. I’d like to think you got that from me, but as you can see, I’ve been running from the things I can’t tolerate.”

I was about to object to her statement, knowing fully that my strength came directly from her, and she did not know the struggle and temptation to run that I’ve fought with, when she continued, “Look, our line of work is dangerous, and we can’t predict what tomorrow may hold. I know that keeping you away from here was my own fear of confronting the past. I…I only hope that you can forgive me,” she said, her features softened by the humbling statement.

I shook my head, “There is nothing to forgive. I’ve said it before, and it remains true to this day, traveling the galaxy with you was more than a girl could ever dream of, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I learned what makes a life worth living, all from you. You didn’t do anything wrong, and now is just as good a time as any to reconnect with the past, in order to pave the way toward the future.”

She smiled, fixed her sunglasses, and put her arm through the crux of my elbow as we headed toward the estate manor.

It was a very large and very old red-brick home. It was apparent that there was a great deal of luxury, but the antique décor gave a warm atmosphere. It was clear that the estate was well-cared for, and that the staff had gone to great lengths in welcoming my mother back.

After lunch we spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the family home and scrounging through my mother’s old belongings. With dinner, we settled into the den and opened some of the vintage wines from the vineyard that had been stored from years gone by. We chatted and shared in memories that we had spent together aboard the many posts and ships of my childhood, and what life aboard Navy ships has been like after we separated.

Eventually the conversation came around to Anke Reznikov. I told her about our distinguished missions, and how wonderful it had been to have her at my side in those sticky situations, especially since we could practically read one another’s minds on a battlefield. I didn’t hesitate in telling her about how our relationship eventually turned romantic, to which she expressed that it was only natural, and she could see how I would be attracted to her. She even confessed that she had caught herself looking at Anke’s father, on more than one occasion when they were stationed together.

As I told her about Akuze, the tears rolled freely, with my emotions still very raw from what had happened only weeks ago. She held my hands and I recalled the events, but when I spoke of saying good bye to Anke, my mouth became dry with the words that stuck to my tongue, almost refusing to be spoken.

My mother wiped the tears from my cheeks, and reaffirmed that I did everything properly, and carrying the burden of their deaths is not what my platoon would have wanted. It didn’t change my survivor’s guilt, but it reaffirmed what I was beginning to accept—nothing can change the past, and if I didn’t come to terms with it, my mind would destroy me.

We spent the next of couple days like that, enjoying each other’s company, catching up on lost time, and making new memories among old ones. She even brought my ant farm to return to its rightful owner, and admitted to having to replace the queen a couple times as a result of forgetting to feed them—a trait that we both shared. Unfortunately, I would have to abandon them once more, due to ICT training, but it was a thoughtful gesture. 

It was the most at peace I had felt in more years than I could remember, in spite of all that I had been through. Being connected to the Earth and to my ancestors had an impact on my meditation. Somehow it had become so profound, more clear, serene, and I was able to find a solemn whisper in my being that felt like pure strength. _The warrior’s essence…Zephyra, you always saw it…_  

My mother and I thanked the staff for their duties over a shared breakfast on the day that we left. Before we prepared for our departure, she discussed details of my involvement in the future of the property to the estate manager, and a part of me was excited for this new addition to in my life, but the other part of me knew that living a quaint life on the estate was not in my cards right now—though, if things had played out differently with Anke, who knows.

The time was coming that I needed to report to N-School. My mother and I, both dressed in our Blues, she was a Captain, I was a Lieutenant, we took a photo together outside the estate with the morning summer sun casting yellow hues on our faces.

We boarded the fighter one last time and took off for the southern America continent, where The Villa awaited me alongside the same vast ocean that we had been visiting on the northern continent.

**  
**


	17. Special Forces Training

2177 – Sol System/Earth/Rio de Janeiro/ICT 

The Interplanetary Combatives Training facility was located at Villa Militar, an ultra-high tech training ground specially designed to produce the most impenetrable and badass soldiers that humanity has to offer. We landed in the visitor’s dock, and I gathered my two cases of belongings to proceed for processing. When I turned around, I saw my mother standing at attention giving me a salute, and I felt my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. Never in a million years did I ever expect to ever receive a salute from my mother, and I snapped to attention, returning a perfect salute to her. After that, we hugged and bid one another farewell yet again, this time she didn’t hide the tears in her eyes, and she made me make a promise to her that I would stay alive, and take care of myself in the trials ahead.

She watched me enter the gates before she took off, to return to her own duty station. I checked in with the guards, and they escorted me to the processing center, where I checked my belongings in, and was provided ICT-specific gear in exchange. Once I processed through, I was sent to join my class of candidates.

There were about a hundred of us there, from all branches of Alliance military, though only Navy and Marines had any interstellar experience, Army was exclusively tied to Earth and the Sol system at most.

I wasn’t there to make any friends, so I began squaring my things away, but some immediately recognized me as the Hero of Elysium. There was an earth-born Marine named Lee Riley, who was all too eager to size me up. She made sure to let me know that my ‘Lucky-Star’ (of Terra), wouldn’t mean shit in The Villa, and that even without one, she would be seeing me on graduation day with a red stripe on her blues. With a 5% completion rate, I knew not to get too attached to anyone, but I took her up on the challenge, just for shits and giggles.

None of the candidates had seen any of our Drill Instructors yet, so there was a lot of chatter about what kind of hell we were going to go through for the next 18 weeks. I wish I could say I shared in their nervous fear, but I didn’t, at that point I believed nothing could be worse than the shit I had seen already. The majority of the candidates stood around sharing war stories, telling jokes, getting far too comfortable in an environment that carries the reputation that ICT has. I was prepping my gear, and ensuring that I was well-acquainted with what they had provided me, getting battle-ready in preparation for anything that I might face in the coming hours and days.

We went to dinner chow, and came back to the barracks. Many of them were relaxed and casual, seemingly haven forgot their military standards in the absence of their command to reprimand them. I was tempted to say something, but this was not my parade, and I knew that it is best to just stay in your own lane in training environments.

Oddly enough, some of them seemed to follow suit with me, almost mockingly, they awaited my movements to determine their own. I never commanded that kind of confidence before, but I supposed they speculated I had some kind of secret intelligence about N-School due to my notoriety.

The bugle sounded Taps in the distance, alerting us to lights-out, and I took the hint and got some sleep, while many of them did not turn in until many hours after Taps.

Once the barracks was silent and all of the troops had hit their racks, suddenly the lights flipped on and the sound of alarms blaring echoed across the building. The aisles between the bunks filled with black-capped cadre, swarming like sharks to fresh blood, screaming orders to get out of bed—they also made sure to mock those who chosen not to sleep at Taps, tauntingly wagering that they would drop out in the next 36 hours, for their lack of standards when they think nobody is watching is not welcomed among Special Forces.

In the darkness of night, we were tortured with rigorous physical exercises and psychological games meant to break the strongest of the candidates. When dawn approached on the horizon, the exercises only increased with intensity, and throughout the day, into the next night, and again the following day. My body was aching, it was numb, it was screaming to give up, and it was only propelled ahead by pure adrenaline pumping through my veins those first 36 hours. There was no chow, only nutrition supplements and water, so much fucking water.

That first week weeded out about 75% of the candidates, and those who were left were finally allowed a few hours shut-eye in the field, and none had any difficulty sleeping with snakes, spiders, and rain all around them.

The first twelve weeks of training went like that, intense exercise, field training and battle readiness, and plenty of sleep-depravation. By the end of the first phase there were only about 18 of us left, and to my surprise, Riley was right alongside me. For all intents and purposes, if a person can survive the first phase, statistically speaking, they will likely complete the entire training.

Second six weeks tested us in survival of zero-g and vacuum environments with O2 depravation, in technical battle simulations that required team work, alongside psychologically surviving the feeling of dying while maneuvering the obstacles. The worst part about it was the fire that burnt through your muscles when oxygen isn’t replenished, coupled with the confusion in your brain. Ultimately, the paucity in lung training and psychologically withstanding the scare tactics are what helps one to survive these types of environments. Admittedly, I think that my biotic meditation and physiological awareness helped the most with this phase in training, even if my biotics did little to assist with the torture of it.

The final two weeks of training gauged our survival in a simulated toxic atmosphere with natural predators, and nothing but melee defense. This was a 1:1 phase where each candidate must survive the exercise without the help of anyone. The filtration mask was not designed to last more than an hour, and the course was at a minimum of 3 hours. The toxic gasses had caused irritation to the lungs and rashes on the skin, so improvising was necessary in order to navigate the terrain, and defeat the predators without succumbing to the environment. I had learned a technique to urinate on cloth in order to protect exposed skin from the gasses, and it provided a make-shift gasmask, that while disgusting, was highly effective.

I completed all three phases of ICT, and was awarded the classification N1. Honestly, while it was all grueling and horrible to withstand at times, the hardest part about it was staying committed to the training, because you can quit at any time without any real consequences, except to your ego.

In honoring the commitment, I made with Anke, my dedication to the Marines was restored, and I was now well on my way to achieving those career goals. I still felt anguish and guilt over Akuze, but I had begun to move on, in the sense that the memories were not crippling, and I felt confident that I could do the job without overcompensating for things that I have no control over. With the cathartic experiences at The Villa under my belt, I couldn’t wait to get back onto the battlefield, and test my newfound skills and badassery.

In celebration, the 12 of us who graduated went out on the town in Rio, and enjoyed the sights, sounds, and drinks of the exotic city. The exquisite taste of real food after nearly five months of field rations and nutrient tablets, was pure bliss. My usual steak and beer craving, was begging for sating with the freshness of the real thing. It could have just been my desperate tongue, but it was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.

After dinner we went to watch a cabaret show, which was unlike anything I had seen on my shore leave in the colonies. Their cultural dances put me in a trance, and the more I drank, the faster my inhibitions degraded. A raven-haired beauty set her eyes on me at some point, and I knew her type—the local women to any military post are easy, as long as you have a pocket-full of credit. I was surprised that I didn’t seem to mind her attention, but even moreso that I was giving her mine in return. With my senses sufficiently inebriated, I allowed her to sink her claws into the back of my neck, and she pulled me in for a smoky kiss. Her lips were plump, but I pressed against her with force. She laced her hands through my hair, and bit my lower lip as a warning that we would need to get a private room if I didn’t show some restraint. With a growl I pulled back, and reached around her to slam the last of my beer in one gulp. She smirked at my determination—she knew that she was getting a good tip tonight. We headed upstairs for her to show me a good time, and with the swipe of my credit chit, my broken mind relinquished control of my body to the healing touch of an expert in carnal pleasures. 

The next day we reported to the ICT headquarters to receive orders to report to units outfitted with Special Forces in their ranks. Most of us would not be returning to our respective units of origin, but a few were already attached as support to Special Forces units. I received my orders first, and read that I was to report to the Fifth Fleet, 103rd Marine Division, Fourth Special Forces Battalion aboard the SSV Helsinki. I kind of figured they were going to station me with the 103rd, knowing that unit is chock-full of Marines who have distinguished themselves with prestigious awards and medals, and they were likely after my Star of Terra to add to their ranks.

One other was accompanying me to the 103rd, Chief Lee Riley, she and I were teammates often enough in training, and we knew each other fairly well. She was a highly skilled infiltrator, Earth-born and carried a chip on her shoulder. I didn’t get to know her well enough to figure out why, and some could accuse me of having a chip on mine after Akuze, but her heart was with the Marines, which was all that really mattered.

After receiving our orders, we went to the transport station for the next shuttle to the relay, where we would then be shuttled to the Helsinki. There were three fleets whose operations base was out of the Arcturus Station: First, Fourth and Fifth, so at least that was something familiar about this new assignment. There was a direct transport between the Charon Relay and the Arcturus, so we didn’t have to wait long to get transportation to our destination.

My insides churned as I approached Arcturus Station this time…without Anke…once back in space, I was finding that every little thing reminded me of her in some respect—I thought that I was over it. Over the months, I had learned transforming angst into resolve, and that’s what I did. We reported to the Fifth Fleet, and processed into our new command, received our new ID chip, and underwent a briefing on the procedures and protocols specific to the Fifth Fleet.

The following day we shuttled to rendezvous with the Helsinki in the Kite’s Nest System. Upon arrival we were greeted by the XO, Captain Caraway, who showed us to our deck. The Helsinki was much larger than the Tripoli, being a Geneva-class cruiser as opposed to a frigate. There were far more crewmen, and the ship had superior technology due to the 103rd having a larger budget as a result of their notoriety.   

I was assigned Squad Leader to Delta Squad, First Recon Detachment, in the Fourth Special Forces Battalion. One of the perks of being Special Forces was that we were given an entire deck for our operations, while most of the others had to share a deck. Each N-Class personnel was given leadership over small contingencies of troops, most were assigned 4-7 support members to make up their special operations teams. Lee Riley was assigned to the Third Recon Detachment, and so we really didn’t interact with each other except in passing, or on massive missions where the entire battalion was called out.

Commander of the 103rd, and Captain of the Helsinki, was Admiral Steven Hackett, a grizzled First Contact War veteran, and one of the most ambitious Marines to serve in Alliance command. He was a leader in every sense—I guess really admired him, even if he was a pain in my backside on more than one occasion, I learned a great deal while I served under his command.

Over the course of the next several weeks I signed my new service contract for 6 years, and I became acquainted with my ship and my assigned team. I had three engineers, two soldiers, and as per usual I was the sole biotic. However, for the first time since specialty school I was serving with another biotic, and he so happened to be the commander of the Detachment, Staff Commander Joaquin Kyle. He was a first generation biotic N2, likely promoted through the ranks quickly due to his biotics—like me—and possibly had affluent connections, because his leadership and battlefield performance left something to be desired. It was clear that I had received superior biotic training, and was a better Marine in general.

I realize that it sounds as though I am boasting, and maybe I am, because he made my tour of duty under him a nightmare, because most of our encounters became pissing matches, though him having the upper hand due to his rank, I ended up on the ass-end of those tests of will—I think his ego was threatened by me. As I said, Admiral Hackett was highly influential in my career, and being the type to get the job done no matter the cost, sometimes his direct leadership over my duties was necessary in order to get it right.

I suppose I may have been a bit of a maverick in the first year or so after Akuze, being strong-willed and all. However, as a Star of Terra recipient, and a hero of several high-profile battles, it garners the benefit of the doubt where some methods are questionable. I guess that is how I earned a reputation for getting results, where others seemed to fail, and especially when the odds seemed impossible.

Over the following months, our special ops teams were assigned to many diplomatically sensitive missions, where the objectives always included eliminating hostiles and obtaining intelligence on their operations. The fact of the matter was that we wanted retribution for what happened on Mindoir, and to send a message to the batarians that they fucked up, royally.  

**  
**


	18. Ruthless I

2178 – Nubian Expanse/Dakka/SSV Helsinki

Sometimes, situations require a certain degree of ‘critical thinking’ to get the job done, so that the proper message gets through, or at times simply to eliminate existential threats. The consequences of attacking Systems Alliance and our colonies can be especially brutal, as common sense would dictate, but in the Milky Way, common sense is anything but common. We take personal insult with respect to attacks directed against us, especially by alien species. Revenge is a dish best served cold, or at least that is a philosophy that humanity abides. Unfortunately for the Terminus slavers, bandits, and mercenaries, but especially the batarians, humanity was in the long-game to get retribution for their actions against us, and it was our top priority to ensure our security in the galaxy.

I had been serving with the Helsinki for about six months when I received an invitation to report to the second phase of ICT. The only way to achieve a higher N-Class was for the ICT to invite graduates back for successional trainings, and while N1 was the most difficult to attain, each N class carried a higher fatality/failure rate. Attaining the next level wasn’t merely a matter of willpower or determination, but rather physical and mental endurance, with considerable amounts of luck—of course I accepted their invitation without hesitation.

Myself and Operations Chief Riley both attended tier two of N-School, it was only three weeks long, but it was twenty-one excruciating days of zero-g, low-oxygen, and tactical battle maneuvers in naval fighters that had environmental regulators disabled. Flying fighters was never something I wanted to do with the Marines, but I admit I loved that natural high produced from feeling like I was dying, while struggling to stay alive in a fighter ship under fire—though we didn’t have live rounds, it made little difference when the brain is struggling to grasp any molecule of oxygen available. Of the twenty-eight of us who reported to this training course, only seven graduated, and unfortunately, some of those who failed had already attempted the course previously and would not be invited back for a third time.

We returned to the Helsinki newly classed N2, but Cdr.  Kyle’s contempt for me grew, as evidenced by him barking nonsensical orders at me, just to show that he had the authority to do so…did I mention he made serving under him a nightmare? Turns out he couldn’t make the cut for N3, and had already maxed out.

The worst thing I have ever encountered in the Alliance is inferiority complexes in the ranks. It really gets under my skin, when someone over me, or under me, thinks they have something to prove against me. I have never been that kind of Marine—I conduct myself always with my best judgment, and do what is necessary to succeed at the mission. I don’t get into a shitshow for special recognition—even though my actions often came with special recognition, for better or worse.

Despite my qualms with some of the leadership, my team was a good one. My Marines and Navy personnel were well-trained, and capable of holding their own in combat. At first, I was a bit uneasy at taking another team under my command into the battlefield, after what happened on Akuze, but I had been putting it behind me with small successes on our routine missions.

Over the last three years, the engineering squadron of the 103rd had been compiling a report for an intelligence brief about The Quasar mercenary group, the Terminus System gang who were responsible for the Skyllian Blitz. However, there were still a number of missing pieces of the puzzle. These mercs were especially loyal to their leader, and when we would one capture them, they had a nasty habit of swallowing suicide pills. To make matters even more difficult, despite the numerous times we infiltrated their hideouts and stolen spacecraft, any attempt to gather intel directly from their data would send out a code that wiped the drives clean, even when we had already uploaded it, their code would corrupt our devices. Finding a way around this was an on-going problem that our techs couldn’t seem to get around.

We were monitoring the Nubian Expanse, when orders came down from Fifth Fleet, to track the movements and transmissions of a stolen salarian frigate-class ship. Admiral Hackett sent out our detachment in a stealth corvette with orders to intercept any communications, and observe their actions. We had been following them at a distance through the systems for several days, watching them scan moons and planets but never stopping to collect anything.

On approach to the Dakka System, Flight Lieutenant Koval determined that their ship was preparing a trajectory to make a relay jump. Hackett made the call that the mission objective was upgraded, and we were to intercept the ship by any means necessary. This meant infiltrating a pirate ship, and for us to prepare for close-quarters battle. I instructed my teams to double-check their equipment, omni-tool programs, and use proper precautions for mercenary battle tactics.

Stealthily we approached the ship, and once we came within distance of tethering, our ship attached a tractor pull, that aligned our docking ports with a maintenance hatch underneath the keel. As per usual, Cdr. Kyle was in charge, and he sent out all four squads to infiltrate all three levels of the ship.  

The members of Delta Squad included: Lieutenant Pareshaan, Chiefs Chavez, Mackenzie, Duncan, and Corporal Kohler. While Lieutenant Pareshaan and myself shared the same rank, my N-Class bestowed seniority to me.

Delta was assigned to clear the lower decks, and our primary objective was to disable the security systems in the mainframe, in order for the other teams to infiltrate on the upper decks without detection. Chief Duncan had a knack for hacking the systems aboard these vessels without drawing much attention—something that Anke never really gained a mastery of, but she was much quicker at getting in and out, which happened to be more suited to my frontal-assault fighting style. I can appreciate my own weaknesses for what they’re worth.  

With security down, the other teams immediately began engaging with the enemy. Delta continued clearing out the lower deck, though it was not a difficult task given there were only two mercenaries to be found, they were wearing The Quasars uniforms, and these guys had managed to stow away five YMIR mechanical combat units, which if they had accessed would have easily given them the upper hand in this mission.

We made our way through the next deck, killing any mercs stupid enough to challenge us. A vorcha attempted an ambush on me, but his face found the buttstock of my shotgun instead. I decided that he would make a good prisoner. so put him in a stasis and left Cpl. Kohler to guard him to ensure that he didn’t wake up enough to commit suicide.

It didn’t take long for our teams to clear the ship, and while Delta was searching for any scraps of intelligence we could find, Cpl. Kohler radioed up to me on the command deck, _“Lieutenant Shepard, I think the vorcha is waking up. What do you want me to do with him?”_

“Stand by.” I ordered.

I switched my mic over to the open channel, “Commander, we have an incapacitated vorcha Quasar who may have some intel. Requesting permission to interrogate the prisoner?”

He didn’t hesitate before reporting back, “Negative, Shepard. We don’t take prisoners. Eliminate the target, and continue collecting data.”

It wasn’t uncommon to have a take-no-prisoner’s policy in space, as resources were often limited, however, interrogation prior to termination was not going to cost any resources, and would likely lead to valuable intelligence that we may not be able to acquire by any other means.

“I understand sir, however I’d like to note, it wouldn’t cost us anything to just see what he knows.” I argued.

“Prisoner testimony is not admissible in intergalactic affairs. Don’t question my orders again, Shepard. Destroy the target, and collect relevant data.” Cdr. Kyle snapped,

It seemed completely nonsensical, we weren’t going to use his testimony in bringing charges on the mercs who stole the ship, they were all dead anyway. At that point, I knew it would have been unprofessional, or worse, insubordinate, to continue arguing with my commanding officer. I was prepared to let it go, and allow Kohler to proceed with Cdr. Kyle’s orders, even if they were reflective of his inferiority complex and his inability to put the mission first.

Before I had the chance to give the go-ahead to Kohler, Admiral Hackett countered with, “Belay that last order Lieutenant Shepard. You are to interrogate the prisoner using whatever techniques are necessary before eliminating your target. If there is intelligence to get, don’t let him die until you have it.”

“Aye-aye, Sir!” I answered, and then informed Cpl. Kohler that I was on my way.

When I arrived, I put the still-dazed vorcha in a biotic reave to weaken him, while I lifted him aboard an escape ship. I tied his limbs and gagged him, knowing that I may have prematurely ejected him if I had to listen to his obnoxiousness for the duration of our time together. Out of all of the alien dialects that are unpleasant on the ears, I think vorcha tops that list for me. I headed a few klicks out into space, far enough away from anyone who could report violations of Alliance Treaties and intergalactic regulations regarding the treatment of prisoners. An asteroid came up on my radar and I decided that was as good a place as any. I had already made up my mind that I would get all of the intelligence that I could force out of him, and then leave his body for dead.

I was contemplating the most effective method for achieving my goal when I thought back to The Villa. I recalled a conversation with one of the other candidates about how vorcha have a low tolerance to oxygen deprivation. He told a story about a vorcha who landed onto an Alliance station after the environmental regulator had malfunctioned on his ship. He had been without circulating oxygen for only a few minutes, but it was enough to cause severe hypoxia. When he staggered on deck, he was convinced that he had died, and this was his reward in the afterlife, but he was pissed off because there were only humans so he intended to kill everyone to make his eternity more pleasant, and he decided that he was going to take a few of our females as a reward despite their unpleasantness. When he finally reoxygenated and came to his senses, he fled back to his ship with his regulator still broken, and crashed into the docking port killing him instantly and caused two months of damage repair.

Anyway, I landed on the asteroid and turned to take the gag out of the vorcha’s mouth.

Impatiently, the shrill vorcha tore through the silence, “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT, HUMAN! KILL! KILL YOU! WE’RE GOING TO KILL YOU!!!”

I smirked as I adjusted the helm settings to pause air-flow, flipped the switch on the valve to vent. Through the windscreen, we watched the O2 leak out into the vacuum.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The vorcha screeched.

I gave a sadistic chuckle, “We’re going to play a little game, you ugly rat.”

“NO! NOT FUNNY! THIS ISN’T FUNNY! I WON’T PLAY!” The vorcha demanded, growing anxious and struggling in his seat. I sat across from him, patiently watching him fervidly attempt to break free.

I began preparing my body for oxygen deprivation, for which I had recently perfected through ICT. The vorcha quickly began to understand what I planned to do, and as far as I’m concerned, O2 suffocation was one of the least painful ways to die—since the brain will always go unconscious before death, and after a while euphoric lack of oxygen even decreases the panic response.

Once the O2 was sufficiently diminished I closed the hatch, knowing that the more he struggles, the faster I will be able to interrogate him. When he finally lost the strength to fight, I waited a little while longer before using my own reserves to question the vorcha. I guess I was testing myself more than anything, since I could always just put on my helmet and turn on my oxygen.

“Where is your base of operations? Who is in charge?” I asked calmly.

“DIE HUMAN!” The vorcha screamed, his head swaying, wobbly, and unfocused.

I knew that the psychological aspect is just as important as the physical part of interrogation. I smiled wickedly at my captive, “You must be pretty scared about what I am going to do to you out here?”

The confused vorcha replied, “SCARED? NO. YOU’RE WEAK, HUMAN. SOFT! YOU DIE!!!.”

He wasn’t ready to tell-all, but waiting a little longer would be no problem. I began to meditate biotically controlling my lungs for precise oxygenation.

Before long the vorcha began mumbling incoherent words, “ALLIANCE PLAYS EEZO. NOTHING. EVER. HUNGRY.”

We were starting to get somewhere, “Sounds like you don’t like the Alliance?” I asked.  

The vorcha gritted his teeth, “THIEVES! BULLIES!”

“That must be just terrible, living in a galaxy where Alliance gets in the way of things.” I humored.  

“DIFFICULT.” He admitted simply.  

I was still feeling confident in my oxygen tolerance, “How do you survive in such conditions?” I pried.  

The vorcha hung his head, “HIDE. SCAVAGE. SURVIVE.”

I lowered my voice to convey concern, “That’s no way to live. Aren’t the vorcha supposed to have more pride than this?”

“YESSSS!” He screeched.

“This is really insulting isn’t it? You’ll want to go get The Quasars to hurt us for killing your friends, and taking back that ship, won’t you?” I questioned.

“YES! YES!! YOU WILL REGRET, HUMAN. GRA’VAST WILL KILL YOU!” He roared, expending a great deal of energy, as he put the pieces together that I purposefully lay in front of him.

I nodded “Ah, your boss will have to carry out the business for you. Why isn’t your boss here now to help now?”

“TORFAN... BOSS STAYS… WE GO… HELP BATARIANS… TO SCAVAGE.” The vorcha muttered, unconsciousness encroaching rapidly.

I could have kept on interrogating him for at least a few more minutes, but I had all of the information that I needed. Next I had to decide on what to do with him. Knowing that it wouldn’t take long for him to die of oxygen deprivation, I decided that would be better than dealing with the bloody mess from a bullet to the head.

As I sat there watching the vorcha’s chest desperately attempt to fill itself with oxygen, staggering and heaving with each rise and fall, I observed the tightness in my own chest, my lungs burning with the insufficient absorption of oxygen circulating in my veins. I closed my eyes, and listened to the vorcha’s gasps for air, as they spaced further and further apart. I suppose part of me wanted to test that I could outlast the vorcha without turning on my oxygen, for which I had been trained to extend up to 10 hours on a standard tank using minimal reserves.

I had been deep in meditation, and a couple minutes had passed since I had last heard the vorcha attempt to breathe. I opened my eyes to see the vorcha with its head thrown back, eyes wide open and mouth agape in its last effort pull in oxygen. Having completed my task, I reattached my helmet and turned on my suit’s environmental function to restore oxygen, and I opened the shuttle’s hatch to space the vorcha corpse onto the asteroid—I suppose looking back, I should have felt more remorseful for having resorted to such measures to get intel, but as I mentioned before, there are worse ways to die, and at the time my only concern was a successful mission.

Afterward, I returned to the Helsinki to take part in the after-mission briefing and to file my report. It was learned that if not for my interrogation of the vorcha, we would not have discovered anything about their base of operations nor the name of their leader, because as soon as we breached the ship, the mercs wiped the computers for any transmissions and identifying information that might have been salvaged.

It was another blow to Commander Kyle’s ego, for which he assigned my team to overnight security detail on the Salarian ship in-tow—little did he know down-time is not even on my list of priorities. Several days later we transferred the ship back to the salarians, garnering diplomatic favor with their government, and friendly gestures from their 52nd Special Tactics Group such as recipes for improved incendiary and cryogenic rounds.

**  
**


	19. Ruthless II

2178 – Hades Gamma/Hoplos/Aegis-Torfan

In the weeks that followed, we were joined by more of the Fifth Fleet, frigates SSV London and SSV Tokyo were escorted by the dreadnaught SSV Annapurna. We charted a course for the Hades Gamma Cluster where there was a small moon called Torfan that was orbiting the uninhabited planet Aegis. On Torfan was leader of those responsible for the Skyllian Blitz, Gra’Vast and his band of mercs, The Quasars.

Our communications engineers had been monitoring transmissions to and from the moon, since we received the intel, which ultimately confirmed their mercenary operations, but our scouts were unable to give much insight as to what kind of defenses we may run into. All officers had received dossiers on what we knew about Torfan and The Quasars, and our intel was still limited, but anything was better than nothing in prepping for the upcoming mission.

Once we arrived in the system, the Annapurna was the vanguard of the formation, and aboard the ships, everyone was at their battle stations. The fighter pilots manned their vehicles, and awaited orders, while the ground troops prepared with the tactical engineers, ensuring that our armored suits were battle-ready, with uplinks to our communications systems, environmental modifications, and kinetic interface.

The entire battalion boarded three stealth corvettes, one corvette per detachment, and we were positioned on the dark-side of Torfan awaiting orders to engage on the surface. The initial reports came in from the SSV London, who sent in recon fighters but it didn’t take long before they reported massive casualties from the anti-aircraft canons on the moon’s surface. The Annapurna was launching orbital strikes in retaliation, but with little success due to their counter-defensive canons.

Admiral Hackett received orders from Fifth Fleet to send in the 103rd, and that’s when our battalion received the go-ahead for ground troops to engage the heavy canons, so that auxiliary forces could eliminate them.  

Followed by reinforcements from the Tokyo, we made the trek from our positions, toward our targets. Rockets and bombs were exploding around the corvette, despite stealth systems being engaged, and echoing in the vehicle, was the muttering of prayers to the Gods, and it all added somber tension to the ride. While all that was going on, I shallowly meditated to ensure my biotics were prepared for this potentially fatal mission.

Cdr. Kyle decided that it would be best to split up the detachment, in order to take out the canons, and to speed things along which would ensure higher success and minimal casualties. He dropped off two of his four squads to eliminate targets on their respective grid square, while Cdr. Kyle remained with the other half as reinforcements should the first wave fail to complete their missions.

Delta was part of that first wave. We hit our landing zone, and shortly after we saw the fighter that had escorted us get shot out of the sky. Delta Squad prepared for mounting an offensive atop a heavily fortified lunar mountain, which was an obvious strategic strong-hold for The Quasars.

“Alright Delta, we’ve got enough munitions to blow this moon to the other side of Hoplos. Trust in your skills, and in your equipment, but most of all, trust in each other. Now, let’s make The Quasars regret ever fucking with us!” I rallied my team, providing encouragement so they focused on our mission, rather than their mortality in the face of death canons.  

With my team in position, I began to give out my orders, “Lieutenant Pareshaan, I want you to take Duncan and Kohler, and head out for the left flank, remember Marines, use your heavy weapons first to take down the armor. Chavez and Mackenzie, you’re with me, we’re going to charge this thing head on, so be aware of any rocks or craters that you can take cover behind. Everyone, keep your shields up at all times, and do not risk getting hit by one of these canons, I don’t have to tell you what they will do to you, you’ve seen what they do yourself.” I ordered, as I prepared my shotgun and charged up my kinetic barrier to reinforce my biotic barriers.

The low-gravity made the ascent easier, but it was nonetheless a mountain. Dodging behind rocks and overhangs, we climbed with aerial fighters shooting down the rockets over our heads. The explosions were deafening, and the ground underneath my boots rumbled each time the five heavy canons fired their artillery atop the mountain.

We were about 2/3 of the way up, when Lieutenant Pareshaan alerted me over our local comms, “Shepard, we’ve come across a cave of some sort. There’s a ventilation shaft, and a sealed door.”

“Verify. Is it The Quasars base of operations?” I replied.

It only took him a moment to reported back, “Duncan’s readings indicate The Quasars encryption signature, and the radar is showing tunnels, with a great deal of electronic feed coming from underground.”

“Affirmative. Corporal Kohler, stand guard while we proceed with the mission objective. I’ll see you at the top Pareshaan.” I replied, knowing that it may be a back-door into their base, but the first priority was the aerial assault.

I ordered Mackenzie to go around to the right and take position for sniping exposed components with armor-piercing mods, and I took Chavez with me to attack the front, from behind a large boulder on the face of the mountain. Once we were within firing range, making strategically well-placed shots was of the utmost importance, because the canons would immediately redirect their fire on us.

“Alright everyone get into position. Make sure your barriers are up, and on my count we take this thing out!” I commanded, reinsuring my kinetic barriers were indeed still up.

I readied a warp, and cocked my high-impact modded-shotgun, zeroing in on the first of five heavy canons. I took a deep breath to steady my quickened pulse, “…FIRE!!!” I shouted, as I threw my warp, and fired until I burned through my heat sink, we launched the first barrage at the heavy canon.

Instantly, and with synchrony, all of the canons directed their rockets toward me and Chavez. We slid down behind another boulder a few meters away, and took cover while Mackenzie and Lieutenant Pareshaan’s group took fire on the canon next—and that was all it took to destroy the first of five canons, but the other four had shifted their targeting sensors to my flanks, and so we had to make our next move quickly.

I sent Chavez out before me, to run for the next boulder on the other side of the face of the lunar mountain, while I continued up the front. The rest of my team were taking cover from the barrage that had followed their assault, and once I reached a safe spot I launched another warp/shotgun fire combo, directing the canon fire toward myself in order for my team to unload on the next one while I took cover. We went on like that until the last of the canons were disabled, thankfully suffering no casualties or serious injuries.

“This is Delta. Objective accomplished, location is secure. We have found an entrance to a cave, our scans reveal that it may be connected to their base of operations. Request reinforcements.” I said across the open-comm network.

Admiral Hackett responded, “We’re taking major losses, Lieutenant. Are you certain?”

“Yes Sir, it has Quasars, signatures.” I explained.

“Very well then, reinforcements granted. I am sending you some light infantry from Combat Element Bravo. ETA 10 minutes. Commanders Kyle and Yakitori, regroup on Delta’s location with your detachments. Find out what is in that cave and neutralize any threats!”

I rallied my team together to ensure preparedness for the upcoming infiltration, and to allow Chief Engineer Duncan the opportunity to upload some night vision modifiers for our armor suits via omni-tool. As I have mentioned, stealth was never something I excelled at, but I knew that it would be necessary on a mission of this magnitude. I equipped a silencer mod on my pistols, and knew that I would have to rely heavily on biotics, and tactical maneuvers if we were going to hit them were it hurts the most, without simultaneously jeopardizing the entire mission.

My reinforcements arrived right on time, Cdr. Kyle the first among them, followed by Third Recon Detachment. and then Echo squad from CE Bravo shortly thereafter.

When I saw a familiar face exit the transport I beamed, “You’re late to the party, Riley.”

“It’s only just getting started, Shepard. Hope you’ve saved some for the rest of us.” Chief Riley quipped, as she approached with her detachment. 

“There’s probably a whole nest of them in here,” I answered.

Kohler had managed to breech the opening, which led into a tunnel with five different passageways, and Cdrs. Kyle and Yakitori split the teams up for the descent into the mountain. We had orders to eliminate any hostile targets using lethal force, take no prisoners, and demand a surrender if we come across the leader of the gang, and that’s exactly what I intended to do.

I staggered my teams out into two-person pairs at 2 minute intervals, in order to allow for distance between individuals, just in case the tunnels were booby trapped. I was in the lead, to ensure that if there were traps, or if there were situations that needed executive decision-making, that I could take the responsibility. The tunnels were well-lit, but appeared to be in decrepit condition. At some point, this moon was home to a Turian mining company, and these shafts were what remained after the resources had been depleted.

We continued down the dank tunnel for about a kilometer, the sounds of sirens were faintly heard in the distance, but the bombs exploding above the surface had long faded away. “We must be getting close” I whispered to my partner, Gunnery Chief Hayley Mackenzie.

“Do you think they know we’re coming, Ma’am?” she asked.

I shrugged, “If they do, we will find out soon enough.”

Another half-kilometer, and we arrived at a door that wasn’t even barricaded, at which point I smirked “Either they are on the other side waiting for us, or they were extremely careless and are about to regret it.” I reinforced my barriers, and pulled my dual-wield pistols while Mackenzie opened the door. Behind it revealed a batarian merc with his back turned, toiling away at a monitoring station, and he was completely oblivious to our presence.

Holding my breath, I charged up a stasis and lassoed my energy around him as I carefully creeped into the room. Across the room, were at least a dozen monitoring stations, and their respective workers grossly engaged in their tasks, wearing headsets and visors, presumably controlling their combat drones or canons.

A wicked grin pulled at the corners of my mouth, and I thought, _this is too easy_. I pulled the batarian down into the floor, looking into his eyes I could see both fear and anger underneath the paralysis of my stasis. I reached for my combat knife, and pulled the edge across his throat, the hot blood flowing freely through the grated floor, and his body struggled to fight against his life source’s escaping, but my biotic power held him frozen and helpless.

I swiftly moved back to the door where Mackenzie was patiently awaiting my orders, and I saw the next pair of my team members coming up from the rear.

I whispered to Mackenzie, “We’re going to turn the lights off—hope batarians aren’t scared of the dark. Send out a message via omni-tool to the rest of our team that they are to approach with night vision, and silenced weapons at the ready.”

She gave an affirmative nod, and just as she keyed away on her omni-tool, Chief Duncan and Corporal Kohler arrived.

“What’s the situation, Ma’am?” Duncan whispered, peeking over my shoulder to see the dead batarian in the floor.

I knew this tech had a habit of storing unscrupulous programs on his omni-tool, he was one of the best hackers I had ever met—as I mentioned before, people get recruited into the 103rd because of their exceptionalism. “Chief, do you still have that gutter.exe program, that we acquired from that stolen elcor ship?” I asked.

He nodded in embarrassment, “I know we’re not supposed to keep alien tech on Alliance hardware. It won’t happen again, Ma’am.”

“Follow me. You’re going to hack that terminal, and shut down this station, using that program. Kohler, you stay here with Mackenzie, and prepare to move on my mark. If more of the team arrives before we’re finished, ensure that they hold back until we’re ready to engage.” I ordered, and ducked back into the room with Duncan,

While he hacked the network, I gained a tactical position by crouching across the room to behind a pillar with crates stacked against it. There were at least five batarians that I could easily target, so I put two in my sights, but then noticed a krogan guarding the door that led deeper into the facility.

Knowing the krogan would be a problem, I realized when the time came that I would have to use non-conventional methods if I was going to slow him down enough to take out these batarians.

I looked back to Duncan, who gave me eye contact and a nod, gesturing that he was close to executing the program. I charged up my biotic barrier, and began focusing my biotics for the upcoming attack. I wanted to throw a singularity in the middle of the room, that would be the most efficient thing to do.

The krogan was too far from where I needed him to be, and so I looked around for a way that I could manipulate him to approach without revealing position. As I shifted, I noticed a faint clacking on the metal floor underneath my boots.

Stuck in the grooves of the soles, were tiny pebbles from the lunar surface. _Ah ha!_ I thought, as I plucked a few of them out, in order to toss them at the krogan and get his attention. The first hit his back, in addition to their heavy battle armor, krogan also have biologically engineered armored skin, so he didn’t even notice it.

The next one bounced off of him and hit a batarian console operators in one of his four eyes. In a rage, the batarian screamed, and threw his controls down, looking up to the carved out earthen ceiling he roared, “Raaahhh! Fuck this shit! I’m tired of playing games, I want to make them bleed with my own two hands!” as he shot up to storm out of the room.

Duncan and I remained under cover, and the other batarians seemed largely unfazed by the sudden outburst, because only a couple of them even bothered to glance in his direction. The krogan however turned and demanded, “Sit your ass down, and quit bitching! You leave when Gra’Vast says you leave! Now get back to work!”

“I’ll do what the hell I want. Get the fuck out of my way, krogan!” the batarian barked, tempting fate by knocking his shoulder into the krogan, in his effort to leave, without any consideration that krogan kill for the pleasure of it.

A wry grimace contorted his face, and with fists clenched, the krogan growled, “Cocky little shit, you just made my day.”

The batarian attempted for his gun, when the krogan hit him with a biotic stasis and charged at him. With a powerful blow, he plowed his green-skinned target to the wall behind him, causing rocks and dirt from overhead to rain down on them. The krogan didn’t stop there, he began head-butting his target repeatedly, and the cracking of his skull, soon gave way to the sloping of its contents being pulverized.

Other batarians did not dare direct their attention to the brutal death of their comrade. I knew that this moment was the best opportunity for us to strike. Motioning to Duncan, I gave him a thumbs-up that he needed to terminate the power now. With that, he reached up tapped a few keys, the whirring of the machines died down, the lights flickered off, and the ambient sounds of the room became amplified, as I engaged my night-vision.

Knowing that my biotic barriers had a faint glow in the dark, I had to act fast, or else face the entire brunt of their attack. I launched a powerful singularity into the center of the room, just over the krogan, when I saw him charge up his own biotic barriers.

To be honest, in all of my fights with the mercs and their various species, this was my first fight with a Krogan Battlemaster, and I knew that they were terrifyingly powerful biotics.

Just as I prepared to propel my warp into the singularity, my team began opening fire on the flailing bodies caught in the glowing center of my singularity.

I hurled a warp into the dissipating micro-blackhole, and created a biotic combo that flung the batarians into their stations and against the walls. The krogan was the first to his feet, though he seemed disoriented because he could not see in the dark.

Hoping to avoid drawing attention to myself, I allowed my biotic barrier to wear off and recharged my kinetic ones. I could hear that the teams above that had begun engaging on the enemy as well, when the sound of small arms fire echoed through the pipes overhead.  

I looked back to see that several members of my team had arrived, and moved forward to get a better shot at the krogan, who was firing aimlessly toward the sound of gunfire as the bullets chipped away at his shields and armor.

Stealth no longer being an issue, I switched back to my modded shotgun, and fired directly into the krogan’s center mass, disengaging his barriers and forcing him backward. I began focusing another warp as I fired again, this time enraging him with the damage. The batarians around him had already fallen dead, and my team was now focusing their firepower on the krogan, who charged up his barriers in a bloodthirsty roar, and hurled a singularity toward the entrance that my team was still occupying.

I couldn’t let him hit them with a combo detonation, so I shouted “Hey krogan! You like biotics?”

His attention turned back to me, and he growled and tilted his head down to begin his charge at me. I pulled my biotic energy into my arms from the depths of my abdomen, and up my spine, my entire body clenched when I released a heavy throw at the krogan.

In an instant, the mighty battlemaster was propelled against the wall, his armor mangled and blood running down his face. He growled as he attempted to get up, fighting for his life, to exact his last stand against his enemy…against me. A part of me hates killing krogan mercs due to their genetic issues, but I have learned their cultural values over time, and dying in a glorious battle brings most of them immense pride. Either way, it came down to him or me.

One shot, two, three, four, I kept firing my shotgun until my barrel overheated. It may have been overkill, but I couldn’t take any chances, and knowing what I do about the krogan, he would have taken satisfaction that I felt so intimidated, to believe that he needed that many shots to die when he was already down.

We had cleared the first room, and my team was regrouping on my position, after finding their bearings from the disorienting singularity. I could hear the distant sound of gun fire and explosions throughout the underground facility. Over the comms, Cdr. Kyle reported that the mercs had brought out their heavy artillery YMIR and LOKI mechanical combat units, and that they we beginning to take casualties from their counter defensive. The good news was that since we had distracted their operations, now we could use our aerial support to weaken their defenses and bring in reinforcements.

With my night-vision enabled, I could see that the roughly 20 people who had been attached to Delta had filled the room, “Good work everyone. Alright, Duncan and Mackenzie you’re with me. The rest of you split into three-man teams and stagger out, same as before. Eliminate any hostile threats. Let’s give them a taste of the medicine their own medicine. Move out!”  

Before we exited the room, Duncan pulled up a holographic diagram of a map, “Ma’am, while I was in their system, I downloaded the layout of this facility. It used to belong to the Turian Hierarchy for mining iridium, however, once depleted they sold it to the Batarian Hegemony it in 2148. Anyway, based on the tunnel section we entered from, it appears that we have arrived on the lowest level, and the others are directly above us.”

“Let’s see, if I were running a facility like this, I would keep my most important members and reinforcements hidden deeply and heavily secured within my fortress. I wonder if they’re that smart.” I thought aloud, as I looked over the map, deciding upon a route to take. I led my team down the connecting corridor that led toward a large room, which would hopefully hold a cache of mercs waiting to be picked off. They had not yet managed to restore the power to the facility, and with any luck, it would take them some time to get their night vision programs up and running—assuming they have them.  

Upon arriving at our next target, the fortified door was ajar and there was a great deal of commotion inside. I motioned to Mackenzie to investigate the situation inside, and report back to me. She crouched and poked her head in the door, then slid her body inside.

It only took her a minute to emerge with her report, “Ma’am there are about 50 mercs inside, they have heavy weapons and heavy mechs, also, there are a lot of techs who appeared to be working on getting the power system restored. It looks as if this is their HQ. I saw two Battlemasters guarding a batarian, but I couldn’t confirm that it was Gra’Vast—if I had to bet on it though, that’s our target.”

My team has been up against worse odds—that’s why we carry heavy weapons. Using them though, poses the risk of destabilizing the foundation in underground facilities like this—there had to be a better way. Making quick decisions on my feet in the middle of battle, was something that I had excelled at, even if my methods were sometimes referred to as _reckless_ , it gets the job done.

“Duncan, pop a couple knockout grenades in there. If we incapacitate the organics, it will make it easier to disable the mechs before they wake up.” I ordered, and over my local network directed orders to the techs. “Engineers, prepare your overloads, let’s fry those mechs before they know what hit them.”

“Aye-aye Ma’am.” He affirmed, reaching for the canisters on the back side of his belt.

He stood at the doorway, looked back to ensure he was still a ‘go’, popped the tabs and tossed the grenades into the center of the room. The sound of the canisters hitting the ground, immediately drew the attention of the mercs, and the hiss of gas being released set them into a panic.

The targets were shouting in commotion, some started shooting aimlessly into the darkness toward the door, and then they began coughing, gasping, screaming—I had never saw knockout gas have this reaction.

The alarms on my toxin seals began alerting that we were in the presence of toxic gasses, which was to be expected since the KO-78 chemical compound would be immediately recognized by our sensors. Then a warning appeared on the display inside my helmet, indicating that my seals were being eroded. _What the hell,_ it occurred to me, _these are designed to withstand the exposure to any of the weaponry we use against enemies… something else must be in the atmosphere_!

“Fall back!” I shouted.

My troops didn’t hesitate at my command, their toxic atmosphere alarms also sounding, and knowing that prolonged exposure would degrade our seals, and would result in whatever was happening to those mercs. I knew of things like this happening, though this was the first time it had happened to me. On certain planets, the atmospheric gasses can have reactions with our weaponry, and the results can be unpredictable, but the examples I knew of were of grenades not exploding properly or incendiary weapons being ineffective or catastrophically explosive, and warnings such as those, were usually in the mission dossier.

We ducked inside a hollowed section of the tunnel to quickly investigate the situation. “Mackenzie, find out what happened back there!” I ordered, pulling up my omni-tool to monitor my team’s seals and armor condition.

It only took her a moment to report, “The KO-78 and the atmospheric gas must have had a reaction Ma’am, the data shows that it has produced a Haz-Lev 5. This gas is extremely lethal...”

“So much for negotiations…” I muttered.

Praisingly, Chief Doblar from 3rd Det. offered, “Well, we did have orders to eliminate the hostiles, Ma’am. You just found an easy way to do it without getting our people killed.”

“Hell yeah! Get ‘em where it hurts, Lieutenant!” a Marine chimed in from the rear.

The use of lethal chemical agents in acts of war, have been explicitly forbidden for centuries, and he had a point, but now I had to do damage control. I turned with chin up and directly confronted his candor, “Duly noted, Chief Doblar. Any other remarks before I give my orders?”

He cocked his head and leaned back on his hip, I then turned to the rest of my team who had all gathered around, “Alright troops, monitor your seals and bear in mind that we’re in an ammonia environment, some of your weapons may not function properly with these atmospheric gasses.”

The screams and gagging coughs from within the room had waned off, and the mercs had been silent for a few minutes, though the gunfire from the other teams on the floors overhead echoed through the tunnels. Someone needed to go inside that toxic chamber to investigate the situation, gather intel, and hopefully to confirm that the leader is, or was, in there. After Akuze I was hesitant to send in my Marines to investigate things that I could do myself, so I reached into my cargo pocket for some omni-gel that I would use to reinforce my toxic seals, for at least a few extra minutes, to investigate the scene.

“Lieutenant Pareshaan, take half of the team ahead with you and continue searching this floor, I want it cleared. I’m going in here to inspect the damage. Mackenzie you’re to stand ready with the others and await further instruction.” I ordered, sealing the omni-gel with beta waves from my omni-tool around my seals.  

“Aye-aye Ma’am”, She said, as I headed into the gas-filled chamber. My alarms began alerting me once again, to the presence of the gasses as I approached, and based on the degradation-rate of my seals, even though I reinforced them, I knew I wouldn’t have more than five minutes to complete my objective.

Upon entry, my night-vision revealed several dozen batarians, a few vorcha and two krogan lying lifelessly on the floor. Even the mechs seemed to have been disabled from the corrosive nature of the gas, because for all intents and purposes, their automatic sensors should have alerted them to my presence.

An omni-tool scan revealed that there were no survivors, so I quickly began imaging their faces, hoping to find a match for the boss of The Quasars gang, Nadir Gra’Vast. I was moving as quickly as possible, though my suit’s interface indicated that the gas would breech my seals before I could feasibly complete the task.

 _To hell with this, I’m not going to kill myself for a confirmation when there is more fighting to be done_ , I thought and moved to the central command station, in order to secure the data drive in a decontamination bag, since it would likely hold their most secret information, assuming our techs could salvage the intel.

“Your seals are down to 20%. Are you doing alright in there, Shepard?” Mackenzie asked over the comms.

“Affirmative. I have obtained some intel, but have not yet confirmed the kill.” I replied, walking toward the dead techs who were repairing the electrical system to see if I could get an ID.

“Need some assistance?” She asked in response.

“I’ve got this. Maintain your position, I’ll be out soon.” I answered, scanning the faces of the repair techs.

Faintly, from the rear of the room I heard the distinct ruffle of someone hiding. I charged my biotic barrier to reinforce my kinetic shields, though it was essentially useless against the gas, I knew it wasn’t the gas making noise.

With my shotgun cocked, I moved toward the origin of the shuffling—toward the mechs. With a blinding light that burned my retinas through my night vision, a flashbang launched from Atlas mech that had emerged from the rear.

“Ahh! Dammit, I can’t see! Mack, they equipped an Atlas! I need backup!” I shouted, leaping for cover behind the console platform. 

The Atlas fired a rocket in my direction, blowing away part of my cover, but my sight was too blurry to compensate for the dim light. I distinctly recognized my armor was illuminated by the spotlight on the Atlas so I assumed the prone position, reinforcing my barriers, and knowing that if the Atlas didn’t kill me, the toxic gasses would erode my seals at any moment.

“On the move, Shepard!” She responded, and in an instant I heard my team opening fire from the hallway, allowing me the opportunity to make my way to better cover while the Atlas directed its gatling gun at my team.

My vision was quickly returning as I prepared to launch a reave to weaken its shields, that I would then detonate to damage the behemoth’s armor. I dislike all mechs, but there’s nothing worse than an Atlas because it has an organic operator, to use tactical maneuvers, and is more fortified than any other, but that organic operator is also its weakness, and and allows for a great exploitation with flanking.

I launched my reave, and ducked back to charge up my warp when some radio chatter came across from the other half of my team, indicating they had found another nest of mercs and Lieutenant Pareshaan had been compromised. I heard Chief Dolar request permission to engage them with knockout gasses again. Before I could deny the request, the Atlas bombarded me with rocket fire, and the explosions propelled me from my cover and ruptured the seals around my shoulder plate.

The blow nearly knocked me unconscious, and immediately I could smell the noxious gas entering my suit. I held my breath and reached into my cargo slot for some omni-gel to slap on and momentarily repair the breech enough to get my ass out of there. I turned off air-flow and released pressure from my suit before recirculating the air to catch my breath. “Do not engage the enemy with KO-78!” I gasped across my comms.

Thankfully my team kept the Atlas preoccupied while I patched myself up. I didn’t waste any time before I launched another reave at the Atlas, as I made a run toward the exit. The Atlas turned and was about to fire on me, when I leaped across the crate I biotically charged at the Atlas, and detonated the explosion slamming my fist into him with a nova, that dismembered its left arm and severely damaged its frame.

The Atlas did not waste any time returning fire towards me, but as soon as it did, my team unleashed hell on it with tech blasts, assault fire, and an ML-77 heavy weapon. My detonation of its armor was most effective, because one well-placed hit with the launcher cracked the glass to the control seat, and regular weapons fire shattered it, gasses immediately corroding the controls and disabling the machine.

I seized at the opportunity to get out of there, my seals had completely deteriorated and the next impact would breach all of them—if not from my movements alone.

“Mackenzie, I want you to secure that Atlas operator, try to take him alive. I have to repair my seals.” I explained, walking past my team who were eagerly standing outside the doorway.

While I patched up my armor up with even more omni-gel—I think my seals were made more from layers of omni-gel than anything else at that point—my team retrieved the Atlas operator, and brought the batarian to me.

I stood to meet the prisoner, “Identify yourself” I demanded.

“Fuck you, human.” The batarian growled.

A half-smile crept at the corners of my lips, “Mackenzie, take off his helmet, we’re doing this the hard way.” I ordered, eliciting a chuckle from a team member.

As Mackenzie lifted his helmet off, I scanned his face with my omni-tool, “Nadir Gra’Vast. Good. I thought we killed you.” I teased smugly, pleased that we had captured the boss.

Gra’Vast refused to say anything, probably out of fear of the gasses in the air, and I gave an affirmative nod to my team, “Alright, put his helmet back on. I’ll send word that we’ve captured him, and send a team to stand by with him at the exit until they can retrieve him.”

“You don’t know what awaits you, human. My father, and the entire Hegemony will destroy all of you disgusting creatures!” Gra’Vast snarled.

I smirked and confidently answered, “Somehow, doubt that.”

“This will mean war! Even the Citadel will not stand for this!” He shouted, clenching his fists.

I laughed, “They didn’t seem to have anything to say about our plans, when we got their approval to pursue the ones responsible for the Skyllian Blitz.”

Then I turned away to send my message, “Helsinki, this is Delta, we’ve recovered the target. Send a retrieval crew ASAP.”

I waited a few seconds and no response, so I sent the message again. No response. _Dammit, what the hell is going on, why aren’t they answering my signal._ Then I saw Corporal Kohler running from the direction I had sent half of my team.

He shouted, “Shepard! We need back up!”

“What’s the situation?” I asked, rushing to meet him, confused as to why they sent Kohler running rather than call for help.

“We eliminated the hostiles that we encountered in the environmental chamber, and now KO-78 gasses have gotten into the ventilation shaft. Its breaching our seals and we’re are dropping like flies left and right. We need to get those vents purged or we’re all going to die down here.” He pleaded through exasperated breaths.

“What the fuck Corporal!? Are you telling me that you released a chemical agent against my orders?!” I balled my fists, “And now our people are dying because of it?” I seethingly barked, wanting to _knock out_ whoever disobeyed my command with my own fists.

“We didn’t get any radio contact from you, Ma’am. Chief Doblar made the call, and we just followed orders. Ma’am, Lieutenant Pareshaan is dead” He said mournfully, seeming unsure whether he should step back away from my rage or head back to his teammates who desperately needed intervention.

“Dammit, my transmitter must have been damaged by the Atlas,” I hissed. “Duncan, go back to get the systems back online, try to vent the gasses if you can. Mackenzie you take some Marines with you send word to the Helsinki that we need a pick-up crew for the prisoner and await them at the exit. The rest of you, follow me and Kohler, lets save as many as we can!”

I ordered my crew to reinforce their seals with omni-gel, and we took off sprinting to the other team. My gas monitors showed an increase in the density of the gasses as we approached, and despite my repeated repairs, they were degrading far too fast. I knew my seals could not take much more of exposure to these gasses, and sacrificing my living Marines for the dead ones was out of the question, so my orders were that if they weren’t breathing, leave them. As we ran, Kohler reported that the teams from the upper levels had begun reporting hazardous chemicals in their atmosphere, which meant that the KO-78 had been making its way up through the mines vents.

Chief Doblar was pulling the lifeless body of one of his troops when we arrived. The sight of Marines dead from his recklessness blinded me with rage, and I quickened my pace, my fists growing tighter with each step, crackling with biotic energy.

He straightened up to greet me, but I couldn’t stop my fist from propelling itself forward to greet his torso, hurling him backwards and against the pipe-lined wall of the tunnel.

I wasn’t satisfied that my field punishment was sufficient for what he had done, and so I walked over to pull him off the ground. As I approached, my toxicity alarms began sounding, my seals were depleted. I stopped in my tracks and in an instant, I smelled the sweet-toxin. Immediately, it flooded my nervous system, my vision grew blurry, and my limbs began to tingle before growing numb.

“My seals have been breached” I uttered as my knees buckled and I dropped to the ground. Two Marines rushed to help me up, but their efforts were futile.

My body fell lifeless as dizzying darkness wrapped around me in its cold embrace.

**  
**


	20. Court Martial I

2178 – Arcturus Stream/Arcturus/SSV Helsinki

I drifted in and out of consciousness to the sounds of arguing nearby. Every attempt to open my eyes was met with excruciating burning accompanied by a throbbing headache. So I just remained still and listened.

“Let it go Commander, I don’t care how she did it. We hit them where it hurts, and have completely shut down their operations. Finally, we have retribution for the countless humans they’ve taken as slaves, or murdered across the Traverse. Dammit, I won’t let you drag her through the mud over this.” A gruff voice barked from across the room.

Another man argued, “Sir, she broke Council law. The Alliance could face serious repercussions from the Citadel when word of this gets out. We have to do something!”

“I’ve read the reports, and for fucks sake, they tried to use non-lethal measures on those damn mercs. What happened was an unfortunate accident that just so happened to work in our favor. Look, I can tell you’re out for blood so go ahead, do what you have to do, but I’m standing by her decisions all the way to the top if it that’s what I have to do!” The first man avowed, followed by the open and close of a hatch.

Unconsciousness fell over me once more, and when I awoke again, the room was completely silent, the only distinguishable sounds were coming from the hum of medical equipment, and I knew then that I was in the medbay. This time, when I attempted to open my eyes, the headache was faint and my sight had returned, albeit somewhat blurry. I looked over my body, moving my limbs in attempt to determine the damage done, in my preliminary scan there was nothing non-functional or in tremendous pain, only my throat was slightly tight. _I’m lucky to be alive,_ I reminded myself.

I examined the dimly-lit room, the beds were full of unconscious crewmen, and beside me I saw my armor hanging in an open-faced wardrobe. _That suit really took a beating…I don’t think I’ll requisition Aldrin Labs armor again, that was a close call—too close._ Moments later, I was greeted by the medical specialist, who informed me that I had a skull fracture, and my biotic implant wasn’t damaged, thankfully-so because it could have killed me. He also explained that I was exposed to lethal toxins, which sent my nervous system into shock for the couple day, and I could expect intermittent lung spasms and muscle tremors over the next several weeks.

Not the first time I’d had my ass chewed by medical for my actions in the field, wasn’t the last time either. After he left, I reached for my omni-tool to catch up on what was happening, only to realize the print was much too small on my user interface, and attempting to read was not feasible at this point in my recovery. I resigned that I needed to rest, and I laid there with my head cradled by the pillow, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, as I listened to the buzz and beeps in the medbay. I tried to focus on the mission that had landed me in this bed, hoping that we came out successful, but all I could think about was how many had died down in those tunnels

 _Again, more Marines died under my command_ … Honestly, I was growing numb to it. In fact, I don’t think I ever got that stabbing guilt and pain back after Akuze… it became just another part of the job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a tragedy when Marines die and it’s not easy to deal with, but wounds that never heal have no choice but to react to their environment. These wounds either fester with infection that destroys you, or they callous over and grow numb—the latter is what happened to me. As I’ve mentioned, if not for these events, I’m not certain that I could have handled the pressure during the Reaper War, when sending millions of people to certain annihilation was necessary to prepare for the last stand.

Anyway, at some point my mind drifted to Anke’s face, her deep-blue eyes piercing into my soul, when I gave her permission to engage with the enemy that took her life. _I miss you so fucking much… If you were in there with me, this shit show would have never happened._ I felt a warm tear roll down my nose and off the side of my cheek, _I would give anything to have you back_.

I felt my chest growing tight and a lump building in my throat, and the emotions that I had been stifling down were catching up with me again. I gripped the sheet draped over me, and my knuckles turned white with anger. My breathing quickened and I gritted my teeth to withhold the tears that were desperately seeking release. _What the fuck am I doing? This is such bullshit, I’m stronger than this... Get ahold of yourself dammit. You did your job, and if Anke was in there she could have been killed by that cluster-fuck too._ I took a deep staggered breath, considering that these meds I was on must be messing with my mind, and as I did, the door to my room swooshed.

My stinging eyes peeled open to reveal Admiral Hackett. “Glad to see you’re finally awake, Shepard.” He said as he approached the side of my bed.

I motioned to get up and stand at attention, but my throbbing head reminded me that was impossible, and I fell back—I was immobile for the time being. “Yessir.” I rasped.

“Take it easy Shepard, I’m just here to talk.” He said, somewhat amused by my attempt at formality, despite my condition.

I nodded, and he took a seat in a guest chair. With a deep sigh, and clasping his hands in front of him, he leaned forward. I knew that he was here to discuss the KO-78 accident.

“Shepard, I’ll be straight with you, Commander Kyle is making a big stink about what happened down there. He lost 60% of the troops under his command, and he’s afraid your actions will reflect poorly on him. Now, that doesn’t mean that the knockout gas killed them all, but we will have to wait on reports to confirm some of his accusations, and to determine if what you did was against the regulations.” He said, straightening up in his seat, and he raised his chin, “It’s never easy losing Marines, you know that better than anyone—and we all lost some in the Battle of Torfan. The Quasars were well-fortified, and had the advantage all the way around. The theatre commanders of Fifth Fleet are in unanimous agreement, that if not for your improvisations, we would have taken a lot more casualties—maybe even lost the battle.” He pursed his lips and a wrinkle creased his forehead, “I know a good Marine when I see one. That’s why I hand-selected you into my ranks, because you’ve proven yourself time and again in battle. Frankly, I’m mad as hell that Kyle is trying to brand you for something like this.”

Clenching my jaw, I wanted to say something, but what could I say? Instead, I nodded my head in affirmation of what he was telling me. I needed to read the reports to get answers about the details of the battle, but at the moment I was just thankful that Hackett had my back in this.

“I expect there will be some blow-back from the Batarian Hegemony. If they know what’s good for them, they will disavow the Terminus bandits, and offer to make concessions for their own sake.” He explained, “Either way Shepard, you’re not alone in this. We’re docking on the Arcturus Station for upgrades, inspections, and resupply.” He glanced to the floor and let a sigh, “I’m afraid this means I have to relieve you of duty, just until this investigation is over. As you know, you’ll have to keep a security detail, but I’ll let you sort out who you want with you. It’s just formalities, and were it up to me I wouldn’t lend any credence to this nonsense. Shepard, try not to lose any sleep about Kyle’s accusations, I only wanted to keep you in the loop in case his complaint catches any traction.” He finished and the sternness in his voice and determination written on his face gave me confidence.

“Thank you, Sir” I rasped with a scratchy and broken voice. I wasn’t surprised at what Kyle was up to, and while I was eager to give my commanding officer a piece of my mind, maybe some R&R could do me good—even if it was on Arcturus Station.

When he stood to leave, he reached out with a gesture to shake my hand, and I reciprocated, grasping it firmly and respectfully. “Recover swiftly, Marine.”

I laid there mulling over what had actually happened, trying to remember every last detail, in order to write up my own report as soon as I could utilize a terminal. Guilt took over reason and logic, as I processed the events. _I should have had better situational awareness about the atmospheric gasses, and cross checked them with the KO-78. I could have assigned cross-referencing to any of those troops extra troops. It would have only taken a few moments to ensure safety protocols…_ I thought, knowing that in hindsight everything is much clearer, and in my guilt, defied my own logic. In battle, cross-referencing is something that there simply isn’t time for, and should have happened with logistics beforehand. _We had authorization to use lethal measures… and still I opted to go non-lethal. As usual, no good deed goes unpunished._

When I awoke the next morning, I was feeling about 90% better—the anti-toxin had been coursing through me for 48-hours, and had all but repaired the damage to my nervous system.  My muscles were still tight, and prone to painful spasms, which the doctor said resurface for months, but I could move, speak, and my lungs were no longer burning. I knew that we were expected to dock with Arcturus Station today, because I overheard a few medical techs discussing their plans to enjoy their stay aboard the hub of humanity’s power. _What could they possibly want to get into on Arcturus? It’s just a bunch of brass, diplomats, and those who serve their whims._

Once I was able to demonstrate to the doctor that I could perform basic functions, and after several scans to ensure that I was healing properly, I was released to quarters under medical profile until my next medical evaluation.

On the way to my quarters, my lungs burned and felt like they weighed a kilo—I needed to exercise if I was going to promote their healing. I stopped at the top of the stairs to catch my breath and Chief Riley happened to be passing in the other direction, when she stopped to check on me “You alright, Shepard?” she asked.

“Fine.” I answered, annoyed at this unwanted attention.

“You don’t look fine. I have to admit, Shepard, I didn’t expect you to go down so easy. Then again, I can’t believe you gassed the whole place just to kill a bunch of mercs either.” She indifferently assumed that my actions were intentional, putting the mission objective ahead of the collateral damage.

I shot her a seething glare, “That’s not what happened.” and continued walking.

“I know that’s what the ‘official’ reports say… Off the record, if I had thought of it before you Shepard, I might have done the same thing. All I’m saying is it was pretty badass… Even if it killed a bunch of our own people, those batarians won’t ever fuck with us again. Sometimes you have to put the lives of many, ahead of the lives of a few.” She said, admiring the ruthlessness that my actions were being portrayed as.   

I cleared my still-scratchy throat, “I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Chief. I told you that’s not what happened, now drop it.” I forced, with limited resources to put the full force of any intimidation behind it. She guilefully grinned and walked with me until we reached my cabin, then took a seat in a chair across from my desk, while I logged in to my terminal to investigate the reports.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Shepard, but I guess you won’t be coming to the third phase of N-School in a few months? I mean, what with your injuries and all.” She taunted.

“Don’t count me out yet.” I curtly replied, not taking my eyes off of the screen.

She puffed, “Yeah, after Akuze, I guess you’re pretty much unstoppable.”

I felt that familiar tightness at my throat with the mention of that tragedy. My eyes became slits and my back stiffened, as I turned to face her, “Did you need something, Riley? Or are you just here to _piss_ me off?”

She raised her hands in defense to my warning, “Sorry, wasn’t trying to push any buttons, Shepard. Just saying, there isn’t anyone like you. I mean, you’re a fucking survivor, a hero, a real-life legend in the flesh. If you get knocked out of action by a prick like Commander Kyle, what’s that bode for the rest of us?” She gushed, leaning back in my chair.

Those declarations of admiration didn’t have any real meaning to me… but I knew it meant something everyone else. I had been made into a symbol of human resilience, some incredible anomaly that defied the limits, and laughed in the face of death. But to me, those were battle scars, immeasurable losses, unfathomable experiences, and grievous injuries that may never heal…I’m only human, after all.

“Besides, how else am I going to get ahead of you if not when you’re hurt?” She arched her brow with a cocky grin, “Some of us are placing bets that you get N7, ya know.”  

“If I get the invitation to come back, I will be there, Riley.” I sighed.

She rolled her eyes and slackened her jaw, “I’m going to need you to lighten up, Shepard.”

Commandingly, I replied, “It’s Lieutenant Shepard or Ma’am, Operations Chief Riley. Do I need to remind you the meaning of insubordination?”

“This is what I’m talking about; a hardass to the core.” She laughed.

I didn’t respond, I just looked at her coolly, making her visibly uncomfortable.

Her forehead creased and she crossed her arms, “Damn LT, I was just fucking with ya.” She resigned.  

I let uncomfortable silence settle between us for a moment, before pulling the corner of my mouth upward, “So was I, Riley.”

She cocked her jaw and laughed, “Ha! I guess you got me. Tell you what, when we get to Arcturus, I’m taking you out to some of those elitist clubs. Being N-2s and all, we shouldn’t have any trouble getting in.”

I rolled my eyes, “Was there anything else, Chief? I need to catch up on these reports.” wanting solitude for any unforeseen reactions that may erupt in response to what I find in them, that would jeopardize my stoic professionalism.

She finally feigned understanding at my dismissal and stood, “I mean it, Shepard. I’m going to pull you out of that shell and show you a good time. But I’ll let you get back to your workaholic ways.” and she moved toward the door, “By the way, Shep, I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Not sure how I feel about your familiarity with rank and order, but thanks, Riley.” I replied, turning my attention back to my screens, but internally I was thankful for her support.

“You’ll get used to it, _Ma’am_.” She said, snapping to attention and offering a mock salute with a wink, as she exited my quarters.

 _Fine, if you insist on attaching yourself to my side, I just so happen to need a security detail attachment while I’m under this investigation_. I thought, before focusing my attention on the numerous accounts of Torfan.

Going through the reports from the personnel in my detachment, and I noticed something, _I didn’t know several of their names_ … _When did I stop connecting with the Marines under me?_ The realization hit me in the chest, and I grimaced. _This is unacceptable… They must have faith in their leadership, and faith doesn’t come from rank, it comes from knowing in your heart that the commands you obey come from someone who knows what they’re doing, appreciates that you’re risking your life on their orders, and will do whatever it takes to complete the mission and try to bring you out alive._

As I reviewed what had happened, I learned that the second deployment of KO-78 was not on my orders, and in fact were the result of an equipment malfunction from to my inability to communicate instructions across the comms to my other team. Chief Doblar gave the order, without permission, and that was substantiated by the reports. _My internal suit’s recorder should have picked up everything I said even if it wasn’t transmitted, I can dump my omni-tool as well if they need further evidence, though._ The reports from inside the base were almost identical to one another, and my entire team, including Doblar, admitted the fact that the KO-78 was an unfortunate accident.

The only person even speculating that filling the mines with KO-78 was intentional was Commander Kyle, as per an excerpt from his report: _As the commanding officer in charge of the ground operation, I did not give authorization for unlawful engagement with the enemy. If not for Lieutenant Shepard’s failure to maintain situational awareness, with regard to the reaction that KO-78 has with ammonia atmospheres, as indicated by the MSDS and in accordance Systems Alliance regulation 889-1.7.03, her team would have never used the gas in the first place. As a result of her reckless and ruthless actions, 22 Marines perished in the tunnels of Torfan, and 1,637 enemy combatants were killed by chemical weapons that are strictly forbidden by the Alliance’s Geneva codes, as well as Intergalactic Treaties governing the rules of engagement in theatres of war. Therefore, it is my recommendation that she is solely responsible, and should stand before a court martial to be held accountable for her actions. Signed, Cdr. J. Kyle, N2_

I was fuming, I slammed my fist down on the desk…but the bastard had a point. I suppose if I had just gone in trigger-happy, and blown the place all to hell, and damned the possibility of a surrender, under those circumstances this wouldn’t even be an issue. His way is fine when the only option for engagement is going in with guns blazing, with total disregard for anything besides total victory or utter decimation. _That’s the only way Kyle knows how to fight…He is a terrible leader, and I think he will regret it far more than me if I’m back under his command after this investigation._

I had just finished filing my own report when the Helsinki docked at Arcturus Station. I took a look outside the porthole of my cabin to take in the spectacle of the station that was becoming a rite of passage at any major transition in my career. I sighed and turned to my wall locker, _If I’m on medical leave, I may as well dress for it_ , and I packed a duffle with a couple duty uniforms, a few changes of civvies, and a set of Dress Blues, just in case I found myself in a formal affair and couldn’t access the ship.

Before I left for the shore briefing, I sent a request for the Captain Caraway to obtain the Admiral Hackett’s approval in assigning Chiefs Riley and Mackenzie to my detail while I am under investigation. I wanted Mackenzie because she is by-the-book, and I’d come to trust her most out of anyone else on my squad. I figured it was a stretch for him to allow someone that was under my command to assume a position of authority over me, but it was worth a shot.

Few minutes had passed and I was heading toward the docking deck, when my omni-tool buzzed with the Captain’s signature on my request. It felt good to know that the higher-ups were taking my side.

The briefing was short enough for Hackett to inform us that we will be dry docked for up to a month, depending on how much work needs to be done on the ship. He also gave the run down on staying in Fifth Fleet barracks, and made sure to remind that this is where the brass congregates, and any embarrassments under his command will result in swift and severe punishment. Afterward, I sent Riley and Mackenzie an omni-tool alert with orders about their assignment, and instructed them to meet me at the terminal by the main airlock with their duffels.

I didn’t have to wait long for my detail to arrive, but while I stood there, a few Marines approached me to express their disbelief in Commander Kyle’s accusations, but most just minded their own business out of respect for the dead, if not for me.

Riley rolled her eyes as she approached me, “So this is what I get for trying to be nice. I guess I should have known that anything to with you would be under observation by the Commandant of the Navy himself.” She stopped in front, of me her lips curled as she shook her head, “Go big or go home, eh Shepard?” 

“Hey, you offered. And I think you’re looking a little too much into it.” I smiled sardonically.

Mackenzie followed only a few moments behind her with a questioning look on her face, “Ma’am, as you know I’m not an N-class…and you’re…well, you’re my superior. I’m not sure how I would feel about reprimanding my commanding officer…and I don’t think I would like the repercussions of doing so, when you’re cleared of all this.” she explained, almost wincing.

I glanced to Riley who had an arched eyebrow at me, and I just shrugged my shoulders, “Glad to hear your faith in my absolution, but you’ll just have to grin and bear it. Besides, I heard that you put in your application to go to The Villa a few months ago. I figured that hanging around with me for a while, in front of the brass, might get them saying your name. You know how slow the government moves, sometimes when your name is recognized by people that matter, things happen faster. No guarantees though, I _am_ under investigation after all...”

She pursed her lips and nodded, knowing my reasoning stood to logic, even if there was a slight chance it could blow back in her face, should the charges stick.

“Alright, let’s get moving. I’m curious to see how the comforts of Arcturus’ barracks are treating the coddled HQ of Fifth Fleet.” I mocked, knowing that it will certainly be a step up to the amenities aboard any Alliance ship.

**  
**


	21. Court Martial II

2178 – Arcturus Stream/Arcturus/Arcturus Station

Inside the Quartermaster’s office the Alliance News Network was boasting about the Battle of Torfan, and my heroic charge which completely annihilated the batarian mercenary gang. _The Hero of Elysium. Survivor. Ruthless. Humanity’s best hope._ They also indicated that now the Terminus Systems were in a power struggle to claim the power vacuum, the Batarian Hegemony was remaining silent about the son of a distinguished viscount, being named leader of the Quasar gang.

We obtained a three-bunk room in the barracks from the Fifth Fleet Quartermaster, who was more than willing to assist with my unusual request, given my name recognition. At this point, there was scantily anyone in the Alliance who hadn’t heard about what happened on Akuze, which only added to the notoriety I had received for my part in the Skyllian Blitz, and now Torfan was added to the prestigious list of high-profile missions. I knew that I was developing a reputation for getting Marines killed to get the job done no matter the cost—which wasn’t far from the truth when put so bluntly.

Once settled into our room, I took a seat at the desk and began reviewing more ancillary information about the Battle of Torfan. I wanted to know all there was, and to figure out why there wasn’t a warning against using incapacitating agents in the mission dossier. Without a flag of precaution to the atmospheric elements, troops have no way of knowing that standard equipment is advised against…in fact, it’s a wonder that there weren’t more reported casualties from KO-78, given our data on all known turian colony atmospheric compositions, there was something suspicious about its omission.

Riley and Mackenzie watched extranet vids while I worked, sharing stories about their experiences on Torfan, where they had done tours of duty, just making small-talk. I wasn’t trying to pay attention, but I overheard Mackenzie mention that she was at the Blitz, so I turned to interject, “How come you never mentioned to me that you were there?” I asked.

Her eyes showed surprise and disappointment, “Guess it never came up, Ma’am. I was a turret operator on the orbital security station, and worked mostly with scanners, trajectory calibrations, and tech-munitions. It was kind of embarrassing that we were completely disabled, while you were down there beating the green off the batarians. All we could do was sit on our asses, read the reports, and watch the vids.” She explained.

It pained me to hear that she was ashamed of her mission, because she believed it paled to my own experience, and I stood to approach her, “I don’t ever want you to discount your service again, Chief. Do I make myself clear?” She stood at attention at the inflection in my voice, “I’ve seen you in action, you would have done the same as me if our roles were reversed. Sometimes it’s the luck of the draw that takes us to the battle. No matter the situation, we should be thankful that we lived to fight another fight, because we might not be so lucky next time.”

“Aye-aye, Ma’am.” she saluted, unwavering to my bellow, but hopefully relieved to know that I respect all contributions to the fight, even when others only care about the blood, guts, and glory.

“As you were, Chief Mackenzie.” I ordered, before turning back to my desk.

I heard Chief Riley suck her teeth, “I was meaning to try and get the LT to loosen her starched skivvies a bit. What do you say, Mack?”

“I’m staying out of that one.” She replied coarsely.

I stopped short of my desk and postulated, _Am I really a starched hardass? I think she needed to hear that her service is important regardless of what her job was… I suppose my delivery could have been more gentle, but these are Marines dammit… Okay, maybe I do need to lighten up._ I turned to them again, Mackenzie straightened up preparing for another ass chewing, but glanced at Riley with hope that I wasn’t coming for her this time, and Riley playfully cocked her head, in preparation for my short-temper.

I forced a smile to stretch my lips, “You know, maybe that’s exactly what we need to do. These Alliance-issued skivvies _have_ been chafing my ass for a while now.”

They passed looks at each other in disbelief, “That’s the spirit, Shepard! Let’s get out of here, and light this place up!” Riley laughed, as she jumped up, and swaggered to the washroom to freshen up and change into formal attire.

Mackenzie was still sitting there. _I hope I wasn’t too hard on her,_ I thought, and decided to take Riley’s empty chair, “Mackenzie, you’re a damn good Marine. The best on my team, and that’s why I picked you to personally escort me while I’m under investigation. I hope you understand the importance of taking pride in your achievements, no matter how small they seem to be. There have been times in my career, when I wished that my troops had been so unlucky that they were bored on a station somewhere…because they would still be alive, and able to laugh, love, and pursue their dreams for another day.”

Her eyes sparkled as she studied my expression, “Thanks Lieutenant Shepard. That means a lot coming from you…I guess you’ve lost a lot of Marines in winning those hellish battles. I believe in you.”

I felt that familiar steely pang in my chest at the lives lost under my orders, but swallowed the heavy memory down before it could fight its way up, “That’s right, and don’t forget it.” I forced a humored response off the cuff to ease the tension.

A smile crept at the corner of her mouth, “You got it, LIEUTENANT It’s an honor to serve.” she placated.

“Alright Mackenzie, we’re off duty. Call me Shepard.” I offered as a gesture of camaraderie, which I rarely extended to anyone under my command up to that point.

She glanced down, “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick with Lieutenant for now…” she hesitated but followed up with “after I get a few drinks in me, I may take you up on it, though.”

For the evening, I decided on my short black dress and matching obsidian earrings that I had carved with my tactical knife on one of my first missions on a volcanic colony, where we were stuck for a week with nothing to do but standby and wait for our target to come out of hiding. Anyway, they complemented my hair and were my go-to for this particular ensemble by making my emerald eyes stand out in contrast—it helps to know your strengths, you know, for situational awareness and all.  

I felt satisfied that I looked appropriate for making an appearance in the diplomatic wing of the station. If I was going to be rubbing elbows with some of the Alliance’s most influential, I had to look the part. Riley appeared to have a better handle on the Arcturus than I did, and it gave me pause to wonder just exactly what her service record looked like. I knew she had to be impressive in order to get a slot in N-School, but never really bothered to ask about it...with neither her, nor anyone that I had served with lately for that matter.

She led us directly up to the diplomatic deck, to a club that required a clearance to enter. As she had ‘coincidentally’ predicted, our N-class was sufficient-enough to get in, and also secured passage for Mackenzie. The establishment was loud, but not obnoxiously-so. It was much more welcoming for conversation than a standard night club, which is understandable for the needs of diplomats. The tables were polished metal, they weren’t large but adequate to hold several drinks and datapads, and they contrasted pleasingly against the black and navy-blue decorum;

“You seem to know Arcturus really well, Riley. I’ve been here at least three different times, and barely know my way around.” I observed in effort to make small talk, trying to get to know this Marine who went out of her way for me.

Mackenzie arrived to the table with three drinks for us, sat them down, and Riley took a large drink of a green-colored cocktail, “That’s what happens when you spend four years here.”

I leaned forward intently, “You did a tour here?”

“You catch on quick, eh Shepard? When I finally got off Earth, 84th Combat Squadron with First Fleet was my first assignment. I was an infiltrator on a Military Police task force that defends the Arcturus Station, so I spent my first four years here. For my second tour, I put in for a transfer to the 6th Expeditionary Unit to get more ground work—I guess there’s something about having terra firma under my feet that just makes me feel more at ease. Anyway, I saved some asses on a few colonies, beat the crap out of a few slavers, and got some of the right kind of attention to get my application pushed through to N-School, and well, you know the rest.” She explained, taking another swig of her drink, and leaned against the back of her chair. “I would ask about your service too, Shepard, just for conversation…but the vids and recruitment posters kind of tell it all for you.”

I shifted in my seat at that last part, and the annoyance must have been written on my face because she followed it up with “Don’t get me wrong, you’re fucking awesome, but I don’t want to reopen old wounds, just to hear the gritty details that were spared from the reports and the public.”

I was thankful for that, most never asked about what really happened in my service record, but occasionally someone would be brazen enough to try to dig for details. I had gotten used to it as time has passed, but it was all still very fresh in my mind. Only 15 months had passed since Akuze, and the acridness still burned through my senses at just the thought.

“Thank you for that, Riley.  I imagine it must have been exciting pulling a security detail on the most important station in the galaxy.” I added, “I’ve always been the opposite when it comes to feet on the ground. Being a Spacer and all, serving on a ship or a station was just as common as a colony, so it’s really all the same to me.” I then turned to Mackenzie, “What about you, Mack? Besides Elysium, what’s your story?”

She shrugged, “Nothing nearly as cool as being a Spacer, but I guess it was the next best thing. I was born on a colony called Arvuna, it was mostly covered in water, so we all lived on ships. The planet was chock-full of Palladium, but it had to be mined, and that’s where the colonists came in. I learned to hunt out of necessity, because fish were breakfast, lunch, and dinner, not to mention the wildlife was prone to eating us, so naturally it made sense that I would go high-speed for soldier-class.” She said proudly, but hesitated on the following words, “I hated abandoning the colony to join the Alliance, but it is a family tradition. We go 10 generations back with the Navy and Marines, and everyone who was able to, has served for at least one tour of duty. Turns out I had a knack for it, and ended up staying, and this makes my 2nd tour as well. I love the pride in putting on the uniform, and doing something that leaves an impact so much bigger than me.” She took a swallow of her blue cocktail and winced as it burned its way down her throat, “I guess it gets in your blood, and becomes a part of you. I barely remember who I was before the Marines, and I don’t think I could go back to it now.”

Her words rang true to me as well…whoever I was when I joined is long-gone, transformed into a finely-tuned, well-conditioned, war-fighting machine—for better or worse.

It felt good getting to know my crew members, the incredible people who are putting everything on the line to answer their call of duty, at my orders. I always took the time to know my troops…at least I did before things sort of went to hell. Who were these people behind the uniform? What is their history, their likes, and dislikes? What motivated them to take my orders and risk sacrifice of their lives for the mission? If nothing else came from the aftermath of Torfan, at least I got back in touch with who I am at my core, and what it is that makes me the _woman,_ not just the Marine, who in the face of annihilation with its steely gaze holding me in its sights, stand unwavering to send it back to the hell it came from. Riley and Mackenzie were exactly what I needed for that, though I didn’t realize it when I casually selected them for this assignment, nor for the majority of this assignment, but I couldn’t have been more right in hindsight.

Riley showed us the sights and attractions that most people visit on Arcturus, many of which were just places for people to unwind and let off some steam, but some were clearly for meeting up with intentions to take the party back to a room somewhere. It was nice letting off some steam. We had been on Arcturus for a little over a week, and I was killing time at my desk reviewing some tabloids that had dubbed me the ‘Butcher of Torfan’ and accused me of being a racist, ‘hellbent on stopping only after I’ve killed the last batarian’. Most articles from Alliance News Network and other media outlets, released propaganda promoting my actions as necessary, and designating me a war hero once again for the people on Earth, and across the galaxy by eliminating the batarian slavers. According to them, I’m the only one willing to do what is necessary to get rid of the evil that threatens peace—never mind that none of it would be possible without the support of my higher-ups, those who actually carry out my orders, and a great deal of calculated luck, I’m just a face and a name to pin it onto.  

I was ready to close the terminal and run a few laps for my morning physical exercise, when the ping of my omni-tool alerted that I had received a message.

_Lieutenant Shepard - You are to report to room DR-109-7 for a formal hearing at 0900 tomorrow. You will be meeting with Alliance Investigation Division, so be prepared to answer any questions they may have. Their ruling is final if they dismiss the charges, but if they determine that there is evidence to proceed against you, they will refer your case to a Court Martial. Best of luck, and I will see you there. – Admiral Hackett_

As I ran the rubber-turf track around the physical conditioning facility with my detail, I informed them about finally having a hearing, which could lead to having some leave time before we have to board the Helsinki again. “Outstanding news LIEUTENANT You can set the record straight, and tell them exactly how it happened. Remind them that without your improvising, we might have walked right into a nest and gotten slaughtered.” Mackenzie offered, and in her confidence I felt reassured.

Riley added, “Its only good news, until someone with a vendetta against you, uses your publicized scrutiny to their advantage. Remember any toes you stepped on to get here, Shepard, because they surely haven’t forgotten you.” She rebuked, followed by a fake cough “ _Commander Kyle.”_   

I quickened my pace at that unwanted reminder, “Noted, Chief. I don’t make a habit of stepping on toes, and I’ll let the command sort out what to do with Kyle. I stand by my decisions, and their accordance with rules and regulations.”

“Assuming they don’t side with him…some people are buying into the whole ‘Butcher’ story” Riley informed, and continued, “You do know that his brother is on the Parliament, don’t you? Kyle is vying for high-command, and any blemish on his record will ruin any chance of that. That’s why we’re here…”

“I did not know that, but your confidence is truly encouraging, Riley” I dejectedly responded.

“No problem, Shepard. I’ve been doing a little digging with some old battle buddies around here. Thought you should know before you’re side swiped by it,” she replied.

Mackenzie injected, “The Alliance definitely won’t be doing themselves any favors in ruling against you, but if they do, what then, Shepard? You really inspire people, and humanity needs someone like that to motivate the fight. You make people believe in what we stand for, and also in themselves; that belief gives some people the strength to be better than they would have been on their own.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit... The Systems Alliance took advantage of those missions, with massive propaganda, and recruitment campaigns.” I modestly rebuked.

“I think Mack has some hero-worship, but you know she’s right, Shepard. The Alliance takes advantage of it when someone like you comes along, that’s what they’re supposed to do. Remember Grissom, Williams, and their like? Well you have your own thunder, and humanity needs to be reminded that we have people like that.” Riley retorted.

“Look, it’s not likely to happen, but if they ask for my resignation or force me into a discharge, I won’t just disappear…maybe there is some work that I could get into on the Citadel” I offered,

That was Anke’s dream after the Alliance, but I never gave too much thought about what I would do if I wasn’t with the Alliance—and it was just as good an idea as any. I couldn’t see myself settling down on a colony somewhere, or getting a regular job with a mining or manufacturing company, and greasing wheels with power-hungry politicians wasn’t really something that appealed to me either…I guessed there was always security or mercenary work, a hired gun, but that was more of a fallback plan than a career goal.

They both laughed at my suggestion, “I can’t imagine you writing out policies and convincing politicians to adopt them…unless you went in with a heavy-weapons squad and said, ‘ _Sign this or you’re going to find out what it feels like to be biotically paralyzed, and shot in the knee with a Carnifex Hand Canon_ ’.  Riley bleated between laughs.

“You think it’s funny, eh? Maybe I’ll start preparing for making policy changes now. 10 kilometers around this track ought to remedy this insubordination, and prepare me for the worst-case scenario that you’re ever-so worried about. Step it up Marines, double time!” I maliciously laughed, light-heartedly punishing their lack of confidence in my ability to work behind a desk.

After a thoroughly invigorating morning PT, I spent the rest of the day ensuring that I was prepared for any line of questioning that the board may ask. Now that I knew about Kyle’s secret agenda, I realized I was a fall-guy that he intended to use to boost his own career, I had an angle that I could work around. The mission dossier did not warn about interactions with KO-78, even though it is a standard operation procedure to list warnings and implications of equipment with the atmosphere, especially in regard to turian colonies. Without taking special precautions, and independently researching the interactions from the environment with the gas, there was no way to prepare for it—and strategically, taking the time to do that could have cost us the preemptive strike against them.

With the intel available, I could not have made better tactical decisions. In fact, we suffered heaviest casualties with the fighters, who were taken out by the canon fire on the surface, their losses were massive in comparison to the casualties we lost inside the base. My intentions to use non-lethal measures, despite permission to kill on sight, should cast my actions favorably, especially considering we completely eliminated their gang. The facts were on my side, but I was also prepared to get blindsided by anything, just in case there were in fact people who had a score to settle for reasons unbeknownst to me.   

“Shepard, you work too hard.” Chief Riley commented, she had been working on her own projects, but mostly catching up on vids and books with the down-time. Almost daily she tried to drag me around the station to find entertainment, but this wasn’t just R&R for me, so sometimes she was forced to just hang around the barracks while I worked.

“Tomorrow is the day. Are you ready” She asked.

I stretched my arms back and over my head, “Ready as I will ever be. They have the same reports in front of them as me, I just hope nobody tries to make this a smear campaign… the Marines who died down there deserve better than that.” I answered.

“You deserve better than that too, Shepard. Don’t forget it.” She quipped.

I forced a dejected smile, the heroics of my actions always paled against the losses I suffered to win…at least it seemed that way for the latter half of my career up to this point.

“There you go again, brooding.” She sighed, and walked over to my desk, leaning her shoulder against the wall, “You tried to save those four-eyed, green-skinned, bugs. That’s what you fucking do. You’re the symbol of humanity’s resolve to do the right thing, and you take the hard path, even when alternatives are paved out for you. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up over what happened…we’re Marines, we die, we accepted that as part of the job, and it’s nobody’s fault but the enemy’s. You’re not the enemy Shepard, and the real ones sure as hell don’t give a damn. The only reason they lose any sleep over dead Marines is when you come for them, because then they have to sleep with one eye open, knowing you won’t stop until they’ve paid their comeuppance.”

My lips tightened and my brow creased, “I am well aware of my actions, and what my achievements have done, Chief. I don’t need your reminding about what my Marines died for, I know the blood I have on my hands, and that’s my business.”

She narrowed her eyes, “You’re mad. Good! Be mad! Be mad, and kick the shit out of our enemies—those mercs were your enemy, and if you didn’t kill them down in that tunnel, they might have regrouped and killed thousands of humans in retaliation. Look, if you want to shoulder the burden of all of the galaxy’s problems, that’s great, you’re in good company. But you’re just one person, and you’re not God, so quit acting like you have control over everything—sometimes you just have to accept that things are just shit, and carry on, taking the memory of those no longer with us in order to make a better tomorrow.” she spoke with passion, the kind that comes from having been there and knowing what pain comes from losing someone dear to you, but I was angry and so very self-absorbed.

I shot to my feet to directly face the insolent woman, “You’re out of line, Chief, and treading on thin ice! If you want to make it back to the Helsinki in one piece, you’ll watch your fucking mouth.” I barked.

“I’m not your enemy, but someone needs to have the intestinal fortitude to remind you of these things, and if I have to take on the role of Sergeant Iron-Nuts, so be it—that’s what comrades do. Get out of your head, if not for the Alliance, do it for yourself and that guilt that you’re holding onto for dear life. Tomorrow, when they try to string you up, by mind-fucking you on those things under your skin, don’t roll over and take that shit, stand up, and fight the man!”

My fists were clenching and my heart was pounding, I wanted to resist the words she was telling me, I wanted to punch her in the face for even suggesting that I _move on_ from the battles that have come to define me…but they’re not who I really am…they’re my response to a situation. I was seething, but she made sense, I growled and turned to walk away, to be anywhere other than in this room, with these thoughts and feelings.

The door slid open as I attempted to exit, revealing Mackenzie, who had returned from a shopping adventure, but appeared to have been standing outside the door for a moment, _oh great, she was eavesdropping_.

I puffed, glowering at her to step out of my way, and marched directionless down the hallways and stairways, to put distance between myself, and the consequences of getting in an altercation with my security detail. _Do I really brood so much that people notice? If they weren’t up my ass 24/7 maybe it wouldn’t be a problem. It’s none of their damn business what burdens I choose to bear. It’s none of their fucking business about anything that I do. All they need to worry about is following fucking orders. She was out of line. Who does she think she is to speak with me that way!?_ Were my initial thoughts, but the longer I dwelled on it, the more I came to realize that nobody really had my genuine interest like that since… _Anke never held back to tell me what she thought about my bullshit. That’s what friends do…what comrades do. Have I really lost my way so far to not even recognize a life saver when it is thrown at me?_

Shame stabbed my chest in a pang that caused me to stop in my tracks, and I leaned against the wall of a hallway. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let a deep sigh, _I was wrong to get so pissed. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about my peers looking out for me like that, but maybe I should be thankful. I guess it pushed some buttons that I didn’t know I even had. I might have if I let anyone close enough to keep me on my toes…because I couldn’t allow anyone back into the space that she filled…not even remotely._ I pushed myself off the wall I looked back toward the direction I came from, _I should apologize._

Shamefully, I turned to retreat back to the barracks, where I would deliver an apology to Riley. When I arrived however, I was greeted by Mackenzie, and Riley was nowhere to be found. “She went down to the NCO Club to let off some steam, she will be back soon. Don’t worry, she said she would drink one for you.” Mackenzie said, setting her data pad down on the table beside her to give me her full attention.

“That’s fine. Thank you Mackenzie.” I said curtly, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall, contemplating what I would do next.

“Lieutenant Shepard, do you mind if I speak freely?” Mackenzie asked.

I sighed, “Everyone else has been, so you may as well go ahead.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I overheard some of what Riley was telling you, and she’s right, but so are you. I can see how easy it is for us to get caught up in your heroism, it’s everywhere we turn, and working with you, we see it every day. But we’ve never been there, even if some of the things we’ve done in our careers have been harrowing, we’re not you, and this is your career. It’s been a privilege to serve with you, and no matter what happens tomorrow, I think you should just stay true to yourself. Getting pissed will just give them ammunition, and showing remorse will let them see your weakness, but I’ve spent just about every minute with you for the last two weeks, and you’ve got this. You were a professional, stand by it, and the facts will fall into place.” She said plainly, but with some reservation, knowing my response could have lasting effects on her service.

I nodded my head at her remarks, “I appreciate the insight, Mackenzie.” I looked back to my terminal and decided I should prepare my final statement, “I guess should get back to work.”

“I’m here if you need me, Lieutenant.” She offered and picked up her data pad to resume reading.

I couldn’t sleep very well that night, even though I went to bed early, I tossed and turned, plagued by the sights and smells of the battles that won’t let me rest. A new and plaguing thought kept creeping into my mind, _maybe retribution is finally catching up with me for all the lives sacrificed on my orders. Do I even deserve the freedom to continue with this after all that I’ve done?_ Each time that thought came to me, I felt searing rage at the demons that my mind was mustering to challenge me. _I won’t go out like this; I’ve come too far be defeated with the stroke of a pen, and the demons of my memories._

Around 0430 I resigned my efforts for sleep and woke Mack and Riley for morning PT, then at 0600 we came back to get cleaned up to prepare for the hearing. The mood was anxious, but we hid it well. At 0830, in our dress blues, we headed for DR deck to the board room, where I found my place in front of a bench with six chairs. I was greeted by Admiral Hackett of the Helsinki, and Captain Anderson of the Tokyo, who were both there to provide their testimony on the battle. I recognized Anderson from the Star of Terra ceremony, he of course remembered me as well, and he had apparently earned a promotion since our last encounter. Commander Kyle was sitting alone in the rear of the room to provide his own testimony, having made himself a pariah. That’s what happens in the military, either you’re with us or you’re against us. 

When the hearing began, I opened with my statement, and explained my actions with accuracy and understanding, not passing blame but refusing to accept anything more than my share of it. I made certain to remind the hearing panel of the unfortunate consequences of failure to update Alliance intelligence documents, and how it may have been avoided if we had kept our end of the peace treaty with the turians.  

The brass gave their shining testimony, and then we all listened to the audio evidence from my team’s comms, finally they heard Commander Kyle’s interpretation of the events. It was a clear case of an unfortunate accident, and everyone in the room knew that looking too deeply into it could result in a diplomatic issue with the turians. Under normal circumstances, Kyle’s unit—my unit—would have gotten a pat on the back, some ribbons for meritorious duty, and the whole thing would have been just another day on the job, but he shot himself in the foot with his petty bullshit.

The hearing panel dismissed the charges, and I was sent on my way. Riley and Mackenzie were relieved of their guard duties, and allowed to enjoy what was left of shore leave. Later that week, we received notification that Commander Kyle had resigned his post, unable to withstand the loss of life on Torfan. As a departure package, he was promoted to Major and given a few awards that would help him along should he pursue a career in politics, or something of the like.  

**  
**


	22. N6

2179 – Classified Locations/SSV Helsinki

The awards and decorations that were pinned on my chest standing atop a tower of blood and death, propelled my career in a direction that I could have never imagined. While the trail of destruction ensured glorious victory—if you want to call it that—it forever changed the course of history in many respects, within myself and created a wave rippling out from every life I snubbed out.

Despite the negative publicity surrounding what happened on Torfan, I was promoted to 1st Lieutenant. In addition to the Meritorious Service Star that nearly everyone in the 103rd received for the battle of Torfan, Fifth Fleet quietly awarded me with a Silver Star, and an Arcturus Ribbon for gallantry in promoting humanity against hostile enemies and for distinguished service in Alliance Space.

After a brief psych-eval to determine if I was up to the task to keep myself from exterminating the rest of the batarian race, I returned to duty back to the Helsinki, with new and improved resolve to do what I do best. With Kyle no longer a thorn in anyone’s side, most importantly, mine, leadership positions were shifting around within the Special Forces battalion. Lieutenant Commander Marseille an N6 who commanded the Fourth SF Battalion acted as our detachment CO until a replacement could be found. He was an exceptional commander, based on having encountered several types at this point in my career. What I liked most about him was that he knew when to allow his team to make their own calls where their expertise was necessary. Admiral Hackett and the rest of the crew went back to business as usual in no time at all.

Lee Riley received her commission for her actions in the Battle of Torfan, and within a few weeks of returning to the Helsinki, Hayley Mackenzie received the news she had been awaiting, and would report to The Villa with the next training cycle. Several months had passed, and we were settling back into our routine patrolling systems, investigating situations, and all that, when I received my offer to report to Caleston for the N3 selection course.

Once again, Riley and I set out for the most intense and deadly trainings that the Alliance had to offer, this time on a volcanic planet where any slip ups would result in catastrophic damage if not death. After a brief rundown of survival skills to ensure preparedness for the mental and physical challenges, we were given thermal protection plates, 2 liters of water, and a ruck of survival tools, to set forth on the mission. Each of us was given a target on different quadrants of the training grounds, and given 36 hours to complete our objectives.

My objective was to locate and destroy the mechanical moving target. Uploaded onto my omni-tool was a tracking program, which gave me pause as to why we were given 36 hours when our quadrants were no larger than 50km. I realized the difficulty of the matter, when the shuttle dropped me off in the middle of a caldera, on a ledge that barely fit my boots. I hugged my back to the craggy wall, and scooted my way to the end, when I found a crevice that I could wedge myself into and climb out the top. Once I scraped my way out of the volcano, I realized that 3 hours had already passed, and when I pulled up the tracking device, it revealed that my target was 41km across the mountainous unstable terrain, with magma flows and constant earthquakes.

I made the trek across the death traps, with the radiating heat nearly melting my armor into my skin. I leaped across boulders, swung from protruding rocks across lava rivers, and used my biotics when I could—though, biotic use without a way to replenish my nutrients would cut into my stamina before I reached the target, so I had to be resourceful with my decisions. 35 hours had passed, and my target was within my sights, but it was in the middle of a lake of lava, and the only way I could reach it would be to fly. I could barely see straight from heat exhaustion, dehydration, and some minor injuries that my body did not have the resources to tend to. I used my biotics to push a boulder down into the molten bed, and leaped on top of it, and then I encased myself and the boulder with a biotic shield, and forced the energy behind to allow inertia to push me across and toward the target. Once it was within a few meters, I realized my boulder wouldn’t be close enough, and I also knew I couldn’t make the jump naturally without biotics—though part of me was afraid that I couldn’t finely tune a biotic jump like that in this state of exhaustion. I cast my doubt aside, and channeled my biotics into my legs, rearing back with faith, luck, and precision, I propelled myself to the small island.

I captured my target at 35:16, and was awarded the N3 Class designation. Lieutenant Riley finished behind me at 35:49, and we would both be moving on to N4 soon. As for Mackenzie, she completed the ICT and was classed N1, but she did not return to Delta Squad, instead she was transferred to Second Special Forces Battalion aboard the SSV Tokyo—it was bittersweet seeing her move up and on, but that’s just the way it is with the military.

About 6 months later, I received invitation to complete the N4 training on Pharos, where I underwent training with the opposite elemental extreme: ice. The training was similar to Caleston, but it was a much larger map, and over the course of a week. I received some substantial frostbite on my extremities, but I think everyone who even set foot on that planet left with some tissue damage from the bitter cold. After surviving this course I had to receive some regenerative treatment, but returned to my ship an N4. Nothing really changed for me in terms of leadership with the added prestige of my N-Classes, I was still in charge of Delta Squad, we still did our jobs, and that was that. I had a fairly standard routine, nothing particularly standing out.

In 2180, the N5 course was probably one of the most unique, and mentally stimulating in all of N-School. It involved using jet packs to move around a derelict shuttle, in order to repair the ship’s functioning, while under fire from drones, which would often disable the jet pack. While protecting myself from fire, I would have to repair the jet pack as well, in order to return to my repairs. I did not have any weapons, except for my omni-tool and my biotics, resources were limited, oxygen was scarce, and in order to get out of the system and complete the course successfully, I had to get the ship operational again. To be honest, I never really enjoyed technical training, so it probably took me longer than most to complete my task—in fact, I ran out of oxygen before I was even finished. For successful completion of the course, I was classed up to N5, and I also received my promotion to Staff Lieutenant.

Shortly after I had returned from that training, I was assigned to act as commanding officer over Third Recon Detachment, which meant that now I was in charge of my old buddy Lieutenant Riley, who was also an N5 and Squad Leader over Bravo. I enjoyed having Riley under my command—she was one hell of a Marine, and had what it takes to go as far as she wanted to with the Alliance. Sometimes I felt like I was looking at a mirror image of myself on the battlefield, and something about that instilled in me a sense of accomplishment. I had never really questioned whether or not I was a ‘good’ Marine, but if I could gain the respect and loyalty of those that I considered ‘good’, that must bode well for me. At times, she would get snarky about the fact that we’re the same N-Class, to which I would have to remind her that I still outrank her—the playful banter and healthy competition kept us on our toes.

I received the invitation to come back and attempt for N6 in 2181. For this school, we traveled to Bekenstein, which is humanity’s biggest metropolis outside of the Sol system. As such, it was also a hub of affluent inter-species commerce and immigration.

Five of us came together for this course, and we were introduced to an elemental obstacle that we had not seen since The Villa. Water was our next enemy, well the biggest one anyway. We had been in the atmosphere of Bekenstein for some time getting briefed on the fundamentals of survival in this environment. We wore our standard armor, and were then given parachutes, and a large bag of unknown gear, followed by the opening of the airlock on the shuttle. We took that as our cue to fasten the parachutes around our backs, and secure the bags to our front. The instructor then lined us up to jump, one by one. I had never parachuted before, I had seen it done, and trained in simulators, but it was something that I never had to do in real life—and even then it was only during flight training for the second N-School course.

I flew through the air, my armor and limbs rattling from air pressure and gravity resistance, which threatened to send me into unconsciousness as my body hit terminal velocity. I could not see any particular mark to guide myself toward, and in fact, the only thing that I could see was a vast body of water. I initiated the parachute and air filled the thin sheet with force, causing the straps that secured it to pulled tight against me, coming to what seemed like a halt. I floated tardily toward the dark shimmer of the liquid beneath, and when I finally plunged into the sea, I resurfaced to find myself trapped underneath the seal of my parachute and the water, all while the bag tethered to my front threatened to pull me under.

I disconnected the pack that held the parachute, and swam out from underneath until I saw a day break under the water, and I pushed up through the surface.

The other candidates had all landed within the same 1km radius of me, and for this course, our chances of succeeding the mission depended on team strategy as opposed solely individual perseverance.  We all congregated somewhere in the middle, and took turns opening our bags of gear, to find a few field rations, and some survival gear. As usual, our target was uploaded onto our omni-tool, which revealed that it was roughly 75m below the surface. Among us, Lieutenant Riley had the most experience with oceanic endeavors, being from an ocean-port city on Earth, and so we allowed her expertise to guide us in achieving this mission.

Our suits didn’t have enough oxygen between us to descend together, knowing that what awaits us is likely an obstacle for which our resources were too scarce to last the duration thereof, so a volunteer was asked to investigate the situation and report back to the rest of the team. Lieutenant Aelia, a colonist from Cyrene offered to go first, since the surface gravity of her colony is considered high for human tolerance, would thus not expend as much oxygen as the rest of us, due to water compression, while exploring the site.

When she emerged 40 minutes later with a report, she explained that there was an underwater facility, which was completely flooded and intrinsically fortified. She found an entrance on the side, that she could not breech with her tech tool, and would either require the strength of a trio or one skillful biotic—I was the only biotic among us, so that was my task.

I descended to find my target, and with a biotic pull, I was able to open the door and gain entrance. Inside the facility I found long corridors that led to dead ends, and stairwells that were barricaded and closed off, which likely led the way to our target. When my O2 was at 10% I returned to the surface to recharge my tank, and seek a replacement who could continue into the facility.

We traded off like that over several hours, navigating the maze deeper and deeper—the heavy water threatening to crush your lungs significantly increased the difficulty the further we swam. One of the greater challenges of it was timing, because the farther we went down into the facility, the longer it took to reach the surface again. At some point, all of us were running out of air before we could resurface, and thus were relying on our oxygen deprivation training. The difference now, was exerting a tremendous amount of force to propel myself to the surface—for the record, there is a massive difference in operating vehicles and low-movement tasks in zero-oxygen, as opposed to deep sea diving.

The closer we got to our target, the more it became evident that we were in danger of having to rescue someone. Our deadline was approaching, we were all weak, tired, experiencing confusion, had tinnitus, and our respiration was challenging—there is a great difference with air-regulation in increased gravity as opposed to open-space. While awaiting our turns, one of the candidates fell unconscious within the facility, requiring rescue. Lieutenant Aelia volunteered, she was still faring better than the rest of us in terms of exhaustion and decompression risk.

We provided emergency treatment to the fallen peer, but in doing so, our time clock continued to deplete. Once he was stabilized, we hastily breeched the chamber that held our target, and the final task. Thankfully, all that we were required to do was scan the object with our omni-tool, upload it to the database, and resurface. As luck would have it, even with the end in sight we had to rescue one more, who had succumbed on her way out of the facility when she made an error propelling herself off of a beam, causing her boot to become trapped between it, and after struggling, she lacked the reserves to free herself—it was Lieutenant Aelia. 

In celebration of completing the N6 course—and given the fact that all of us were stuck planet-side for at least 36 hours, in order to reduce risk of elevation-related complications—we spent the next few days at a contracted Alliance hotel in the sea-side capital city, Milgrom.

As luck would have it, my room was beside Lieutenant Riley’s, and she was hell-bent on seeing what the night-life was like on Bekenstein. So after an afternoon of much needed rest, that’s exactly what she did—with me in tow.

“You know, there is a salarian-run distillery nearby,” she started, “and, get this, they manufacture fucking Ryncol.” Riley beamed from beside me in the back of a taxi.

I leaned back and crossed my arms, “That’s the stuff you drink to forget you even have a name. Are you admitting that the N6 course took you to the point of wanting to forget you even exist?” I jabbed at her pride.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “No, but how often do you get to visit a Ryncol distillery? All I’m saying is it could be fun.”

“I’ve seen enough distilleries to know how the stuff is made, and I’ve had enough Ryncol to know drinking that while not-technically-on-leave will be nothing but trouble.” I answered astutely, not wanting the headache of explaining myself for a blackout drunk on the krogan’s beverage of choice.

A grin spread across her face, “Now who is the wimp?” she puffed.

The adrenaline that had taken over to complete the N6 course was obviously having its lingering effects on my mind and body, because that was all it took to convince me that just a few was nothing I couldn’t handle. With an arched eyebrow and a mischievous smirk pulling at my lips, I quipped, “I guess you would know, because can’t spell wimp without an MP. Count me in”.   

Massive smoke stacks towered behind the distillery with white clouds of steam billowing into the evening sky. Inside the sweet-smelling facility, we went through a merchandise shop that led back through the tourism area, where salarian techs were testing and bottling the green liquid. I probed the guide for justification about their enterprising on the misconception that only krogan make Ryncol. To which, he answered along the lines that anyone can make any kind of alcohol, and the salarian’s brand is considered more safe for multi-species consumption—which sounded to me like it was a cheap knock off of the real thing, but it was actually a little reassuring, because I’ve meatheads three times my size fallout after only a couple shots of the pure-grain variety of the liquor.

Afterward we headed toward their bar and decided to sample the cocktail package—which was supposedly diluted enough to have less blackout-inducing effects. One after the other we slammed the concoctions—as is the customary method of consuming the liquid delicacy. The liquor was burning in my stomach, in my chest, and I felt my extremities numbed under its effect. That was when I decided to cut myself off on Ryncol, or else I knew I would somehow live to regret the things I wouldn’t remember—assuming I wasn’t past the point of no return already.

“You know... We should, um, probably eat something,” Riley slurred, looking around the room “looks like the only food they have here is laced with Ryncol” and she pulled up her omni-tool to summon a taxi.

“Yeah, we probably should. What’s good around here anyway?” I asked, watching her struggle to focus on reading and typing on her device.

A human woman wearing business attire chimed in from the table beside us, “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I noticed you’re both out to have a good time by the way you were shooting those cocktails. Might I suggest that while you’re in the neighborhood and looking for a place to eat, there is an amazing drell deli down a few blocks called Tekhek. It’s kind of a hole in the wall, but there’s just something about it that makes their cuisine the best complement to a Ryncol buzz that you’ll ever find.”

“A drell restaurant, huh?” I considered, “I’ve never had drell… What do you say, Riley?”

“Sure, it might do us some good to walk a little anyway.” She replied, and stood from her seat, only wobbling slightly before getting her bearings, “Thanks, Ma’am”, she nodded to the civilian and turned to leave.

A cool breeze blew from behind that pulled a wisp of hair from my loosely tucked bun. It was a nice contrast against the tropical climate of this colony, and it would have been even nicer if my senses were not so dulled by the intoxication that had already begun its assault on my inhibitions. The walk wasn’t nearly long enough to diminish any of the Ryncol’s effects, in fact, increasing my heart rate probably only intensified it.

The Tekhek was definitely the hole in the wall that was described, in fact, if it wasn’t recommended, I would assume that the only dish on their menu was food poisoning. Upon entry, the spicy aroma of exotic foods filled my lungs. A drell female with a low and scratchy, distinctly-alien voice greeted us, “Welcome. Please, have a seat wherever you like.”

We were the only people in the restaurant, so, we sat at the bar, and the server provided us with a hot tea while we considered what meal we wanted. I didn’t have much experience with alien foods, but I knew a sandwich when I saw one.

I didn’t notice it at first, but the longer I drank the tea, I began to feel a euphoric tingling in my stomach that had begun spreading outward. Every nerve in my body was igniting, but only subtly, and even then it was mostly when additional stimulation was added, such as by swallowing, or when I grazed my hand across my arm. I didn’t know whether to be nervous about really being poisoned, or if it was truly the interaction with Ryncol that I had been advised on.

“What’s in this stuff?” I sternly asked the drell server.

“We call it Baeor. It is a tea is made of vepe fruit and qadofa leaves, among the drell it is commonly consumed with a meal in order to invigorate the mind and body, which will allow greater absorption of the nutrients in your system.” She answered with a well-rehearsed explanation that she had probably offered more times than she cared to count for any species other than drell that stumbled into her restaurant.

Riley injected, “Quit complaining, Shepard. Just enjoy it for what it is!”

I squinted at her interruption and continued, “That’s fine and all, but what am I feeling?”

“Please do not worry, and try to relax. It is your body’s natural response to the stimulation being provided by the nutrients in the tea. You will likely experience a similar sensation with your meal. Many people often find that eating drell manna is quite the spiritual experience.” She offered, and bowed her head in a culturally respectful gesture.

“See, there you go. It’s normal. Now can you try to loosen up?” Riley added with annoyance at my caution.

“You’d think an N6 would be more aware of her surroundings…you never know when a xenophobic enemy might try to take advantage of a couple drunk humans.” I quipped.

“Damn, if Ryncol won’t take the edge off of you, what the hell will?” Riley mocked at my retort.

“Shut it, Lieutenant! One day you’ll be thankful for my interrogating skills. Pay attention and maybe you will learn a thing or two.” I argued, as our meals arrived and were placed in front of us.

“All I have to say is, let them tempt me and see what happens,” she gestured a pistol with her fingers and popped her lips in imitation of shooting her meal.

As expected, the meal provided the same effect as the tea, and would continue to do so until completely digested through my body. This food was certainly having an interesting combination with the Ryncol, with the flood of inebriation mixed with a cascade of neural stimulation—despite having control over my higher functions, they were nonetheless dulled by the chemicals polluting my body.

Having consumed our meals and our Ryncol effects feeling more manageable, we paid our bill and prepared to leave. By the door, a flier for Hanar’s Pleasure Emporium caught Riley’s attention, and my interest was piqued as well.

“What the hell is this? The only hanar I’ve ever even heard of is Blasto, and to be honest, I just can’t imagine the jellies and their monotony knowing anything about pleasure.” Riley scoffed dismissively.

I shrugged, “I have no clue, but we may as well check it out. I don’t think my annual quota of weird-interspecies-cultural-experiences has been filled yet.”    

Riley straightened up and with an arched eyebrow, “Wow, I…I didn’t expect you to say that. You know it’s probably just a massage parlor, or something like that…alright, I’m up for it.”

I turned to the greeter who was sitting there watching us, “Excuse me, how do we get to this Hanar Emporium?”

“Oh, it is at the rear of our establishment, but the entrance is around the other side of the block. The hanar will be pleased to have you as their guests. If you enjoyed your experience with the drell, then the hanar’s services will surely please the senses. You see, the hanar welcomed the drell to their homeworld when ours became inhospitable, and as such, we have adapted ourselves a great deal to live in harmony with them, as evidenced by our cultural appreciation for mind and body stimulation.” The server explained with strange enthusiasm.

I smiled, “Sounds like it will be interesting. Thank you for your hospitality,” and we exited the restaurant.

A starry night had filled the sky and there was a warm ocean breeze still blowing through the city. Hanging overhead, two of the planet’s five moons were illuminated in shades of magenta and cyan, though the magenta moon was a much larger orb due to its nearer orbit. It must have been the effects of the alien consumables that had enhanced my awareness of environmental aesthetics, because I usually didn’t care to take in the pleasantries of my surroundings—granted, I always maintain a degree of situational awareness, but rarely to stop and smell the roses.

The hanar’s building was the most unique on the street, not from the distinct aquatic architecture, but there was almost a glowing sheen that was a luminescence of the ambient city lights. We looked to each other to confirm a shared curiosity reflected upon our faces, and stepped into the scanner to gain entry. To our surprise, there was waiver and a deposit of 10 credits necessary to even enter the building. I shrugged and authorized my omni-tool to provide authorization on the waiver and the deposit, and walked forward. Riley scoffed at the hassle, and mumbled “this had better be good,” to herself.

The door swooshed open to a lobby with an effervescent spray misting from overhead. The room was decorated with warm colors and calming floral aromas, but it was uncomfortably warm, like a sauna. The walls of the room were covered in silky curtains, with a few glass chairs placed oddly, and along the rear wall was a row of doors which gave no indication to what they may lead to.

As we stepped out into the room, the mist fell lightly upon my face and a hanar emerged from behind a conspicuously placed desk at the entrance, “Greetings, This One is pleased to welcome you to our Hanar Pleasure Emporium. This One’s records show that this is your first visit, and therefore it is customary that This One provide you with these pamphlets that have brief instructions which will help acquaint you with our services.”

We took our glossy pamphlets that were one-page front-and-back, and before we could read them, the hanar continued, “Please follow This One to your rooms, where you may prepare yourselves for the services of your pleasure guide.”

The levitating-tentacle-creature moved toward the wall of doors, and Riley leaned in to whisper, “Is it just me, or did that thing light up when it was talking?”

I half-smiled and nodded, whatever this place is, I could tell that things were probably going to get weird. The hanar stopped in front of the row of doors and, it pulled open the second one, “Which of you would prefer this room?”

“Why are you splitting us up? What’s back there?” I interrogated, peeking into the dark room with scant lighting.

The hanar answered plainly, “It is recommended that you enjoy this experience alone during your first encounter. This One does not wish to cause you distress, but rather provide encouragement to receive superior satisfaction with the hanar’s services.”

Riley rolled her eyes, and puffed, “Okay, fine. I’ll go first.”

“Good luck, buddy!” I cautioned in jest.

“Yeah whatever, I’ll be waiting _outside_ , if I get done before you.” She countered, glancing sideways at the hanar.

The off-putting creature closed the door after she entered, then led me to the next door to usher me inside. The mist was still falling, and my clothes were becoming saturated. After my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I saw an open-faced closet, a seating area, and table that had a bottle of what I assumed was alcohol, and a plate of some finger foods. I activated the light function of my omni-tool in order to read the pamphlet—on the front it, offered thanks for my patronage, on the back, it instructed me to take off my clothes, have a bite to eat, and get comfortable while I awaited my pleasure guide. There was also a disclaimer that if the experience becomes too overwhelming, to simply ask the guide to stop, at which point the encounter will end and anti-venom will be provided without question. _What the hell is this place? Is it some kind of drug induced spiritual experience?_ I wondered.

Maybe it was the lingering effects from the physical strain of N-School, it could have been the krogan/drell food mixture, maybe I was just curious, whatever the reason I resigned any inhibitions without much thought, and I pulled the damp navy-blue t-shirt over my head.

I hung my damp clothes up to dry in the sheltered closet, and then proceeded to take a seat in the waterproof sofa that was provided. I wasn’t hungry, but my Ryncol buzz was starting to wear off, and so I decided I’d have another drink. I lifted the bottle, and immediately recognized the label to match that of the distillery we had visited earlier. For a moment, I wondered if the whole thing was a rouse by the hanar to get customers from the distillery, to the drell restaurant, then into the emporium, since it is doubtful that people who aren’t under the influence of something would venture into such establishments—but I decided I was here by a series of coincidences that happened to lead up to this moment, and that was that.

I slammed a shot of the now-familiar liquid, and felt the same burn spread from my core. After I poured a second shot, I heard the door to the rear swoosh open, and I turned to greet my expected visitor.

“This One is pleased to see that you have made yourself comfortable. Do you mind if This One joins you?” The hanar asked, levitating itself closer to me.

“I don’t mind.” I answered dryly, not sure what to expect, but since it was set up this way, I may as well play along.

The hanar came over and slowly positioned itself beside me in the other sofa, rearing back and exposing its underbelly, with its tentacles falling flaccidly at its sides. If this was supposed to be sexy, I’m not sure I was into it, but I couldn’t stop myself from watching it intently as its naturally pink skin glowed vibrantly purple in this lighting.

I tilted my head back and tossed the hot liquid into my mouth, swallowing it with one gulp that nearly made me nauseous. The hanar observed my discomfort and offered its consolation, “I hope This One does not make you nervous. This One has exposed its vulnerabilities to you, in order to show you that there is no threat. This One is here but to serve.”

“You’re fine. I um…would you like a drink?” I stammered.

The hanar glowed in response, “This One would like to help ease your troubles. This One is confident that the hanar’s special abilities to quell the worries of the mind and body will outperform any other experience, especially of the one which you just consumed.”

“Is that right? Well that would be quite a match, since Ryncol has made me forget my own name a few times.” I laughed, trying to cut through my nervous tension.

“Indeed, This One has been known to cause forgetfulness as well. If you are interested, This One is willing to show you.” The hanar boasted.

My brow involuntarily raised and I hesitated a moment on the hanar’s offer, contemplating exactly what it was insinuating, while simultaneously the Ryncol was burning its way to my brain, “What exactly are you offering, Hanar?”

“This One is offering pleasure, if you will allow it.” The hanar answered, reached out a warm tentacle, and rested it gently on my damp and exposed thigh.

My breath caught in my throat at its brazen advance, then it occurred to me, _Oh shit, I’m in a brothel. I’ve never even been with an alien before, now I’m actually contemplating this…with a fucking hanar?!_ I couldn’t muster the words, or even bring myself to acquiesce to this encounter, but I didn’t want to turn and run from it either. I gave one affirming nod, and the hanar glowed in response to my gesture.

From my thigh, it smoothly slid its tentacle upward toward my sex. Immediately I felt the jolts of desire awakening deep inside, and the lingering effects of my heightened neural stimulation set my skin aflame underneath its teasing caress.

While my attention was focused on the rubbing at my slit, the hanar reached another tentacle toward my breasts, and grazed over my hardened nipples before gently pushing me to lie on my back. Hesitantly I obliged, and the hanar moved another tentacle to reach up from behind me and cradle my ass to pull my back into an arch.

“This One will now provide you with its secretions in order to maximize your pleasure.” The hanar explained, killing the mood.

“A little early to blow your load, isn’t it?” I joked, though feeling somewhat disappointed, as my curiosity had already taken me this far.

“We are only beginning, please, relax. This One is going to inject its secretions directly into your nervous system. You may feel a slight burning sensation, followed by complete euphoria.” The hanar explained, but before I could protest, I felt a slight prick into my spine.

I didn’t yelp, or even get angry, because immediately I felt the most intense vibrations spreading through my body. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, as every single cell in my body became infused with an orgasmic sensation that I had never dreamed possible. I was awash in elation, transported from the hanar’s sex den to a realm that only existed in my mind, where every sensation in my body elicited newer heights that I never knew possible.

After the initial wave crashed on me, I realized that the hanar was still teasing at my fur, and an involuntary buck of my hips enticed it to go further, and I shuddered when its slippery bulbous tentacle glided over my swollen and achy clit, all the while, its other tentacle was tormenting my erect nipples, shooting impulses directly into my throbbing clit. I couldn’t think about anything, only feel, and every inch of my body was ignited in exquisite stimulation, every touch the hanar gave was amplified beyond comprehension, even the fabric of the sofa was erotic to touch.

The pressure spread from my stomach down into my throbbing sex, the hanar was barely even applying any pressure to my clit, but my body’s intensity rippled through me, “Nnhhh.. Oh…oh fuck.” I groaned, I pressed my head hard into the cushion, with my back already arched, my toes curled when the first orgasm found its release. Just then the hanar took my orgasm as an invitation to take my pleasure a step further.

I felt its bulbous tentacle pressing against my opening that was pulsating with the aftershocks of my climax. It slowly pushed itself inside my tightness, there was some resistance but it was accompanied by pleasure that filled me up. My hips bucked against my will, seeking whatever stimulation they could derive, and then I felt another tentacle return to caressing my swollen sex while the other curled and slid in and out of my pussy. It didn’t take more than a few moment to drive me over the edge again, this time I felt my inner muscles milking on the tentacle’s presence, and the hanar responded to my body’s desires by pumping harder and deeper inside of me, bringing me to orgasm over and over, until my body was completely spent, and I collapsed.

The hanar withdrew itself from my body, and allowed me time to compose myself. When I returned to my senses, the euphoria had worn off and I could scantily think of anything besides _what the fuck just happened to me_.

“This One hopes you are satisfied with your experience?” The hanar asked, not humbly at all.

“Yes, hanar. It was mind-blowing. Thank you for a wonderful experience.” I replied, knowing that it was something that I would likely never forget.

“This One is pleased to hear that, and grateful for our time together. This One will leave you to prepare for your departure. Please return if you wish to experience This One’s services again.” The hanar expressed, with a final caress underneath my chin.

“I didn’t catch your name?” I added, not that I had any intentions of returning, but it was nice to keep track of the names of the people I’ve been with.

“You may refer to This One as Drato.” It simply stated, and levitated back from whence it came. 

I wasn’t sure how I felt, but I knew for certain that I had just paid for sex with a hanar. I opened my omni-tool to check my credits, and discovered that the entire transaction only cost 50 credits, which for what it’s worth, I couldn’t complain. I took a double shot of the Ryncol, and walked over to the closet to redress myself in clothes much dryer than my body.

When I emerged from the room, I found Riley sitting in one of the glass chairs, looking introspective and a little confused. I smirked and approached her, “Thought you would be waiting outside?”

She cleared her throat, still gazing away from me “I needed to collect myself,” she admitted. Riley shifted in her seat to straighten up and her eyes met mine, “Shepard, let’s never speak of this…to anyone…ever.”  

A smile parted my lips and I nodded, “Speak of what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With that, we left the Hanar’s Pleasure Emporium and returned to our hotel, completely mentally and physically exhausted, where we slept until it was time to depart for the Helsinki once more.

**  
**


	23. N7 I

2182 – Classified locations/Alliance Space

We returned to the Helsinki with the highest N-Classes aboard the ship, but we also carried a strange rash in the small of our backs that was both frustrating and embarrassing, but to make matters worse, medi-gel did nothing to remedy its pestilence. I mentally chastised myself for failing to read the waiver that I signed off on. Eventually, I resigned to go to the medbay and get the evidence of my poor judgment examined. The medical officer took one look at my back and said, “You’re going to be fine, Lieutenant. You see, hanar leave barbs in your skin that inject venom, and after the initial euphoria, they cause intense irritation and have even been known to get infected. I’m surprised you waited this long to come and see me…but I understand your apprehension.”

My face flushed slightly at the doctor’s immediate recognition, but then I recalled a conversation from years ago with a Corporal that I shared a hot tub with, ‘ _I guess this is what happens when you play Captain Kirk’,_ and a sullen smile formed with the memory of the good times with those lost crewmen. The doctor prepared a laser device that removed the barbs and repaired the damage to my skin—alarmingly, I think it was the same one they use for bullet wounds

I debated between telling Riley to go to the medbay and letting her figure it out herself, but as I crossed her path in the passageway, she was scratching at her back and her eyes became slits as she approached me, muttering, “Great idea, Shepard.”

A part of me felt bad for her, but the other part that remembered me expressing doubt about a night of Ryncol won out, and I grinned as she continued walking.

In terms of mission success, it was certainly beneficial for our team to have two high-classed N’s in the same detachment, it was for reasons like this the 103rd is the most elite. However, it just wasn’t practical for the Alliance to keep us clustered together like that. As such, after my promotion to Lieutenant Commander, I was transferred to fill the billet of the Commanding Officer to the Second Special Forces Battalion, and the Executive Officer for the SSV Tokyo. It was a temporary assignment while the screening process was underway for a permanent replacement, and my name was among those on the short list.

I was serving under Captain Noora Grovenski for this brief tour of duty. An N7, and a hard-as-nails badass, she was new to the Tokyo as well, having replaced Captain David Anderson, who had been reassigned to Arcturus for a top-secret assignment from the Human Ambassador on the Citadel. According to scuttlebutt, she had hand-picked me to act in this capacity while leadership changes were being made throughout the 103rd. Her confidence in me was evident when the Tokyo would be called upon to investigate criminal activity around the Attican Traverse, and she would order me to personally take a team out to investigate—I was thankful my talents weren’t being wasted to push paperwork for the job assignments that I could do myself, which was common with many XO’s.

I had barely become acquainted with the ship and its crew, when I received my invitation to return for the N7 selection course. This was it, the last notch in my N-belt, and I could hardly contain my excitement—though, a part of me lamented not being there to share this news with my crew on the Helsinki. I guess after spending the last 4 years with them, they had become my family.

Along with four other candidates, including Lieutenant Riley, I arrived via shuttle at Pinnacle Station, a top-secret training facility in Argos Rho. From the start, we were informed that of the five of us, only one would likely achieve N7 after this course—Riley of course boasted that it would be her, and I just rolled my eyes, they always say only one will pass these courses, and we’ve been rising up through them together the whole way. In preparation for the N7 qualification, we underwent three months of reviewing Alliance warfare protocols, and learning all the pertinent information about Citadel doctrines & treaties, biomedical procedures, and military technology. Since N7’s often work alongside other Citadel species in covert operations, understanding _how_ to work with them is a necessity. Even if a candidate does not successfully complete the N7 course, their performance is gauged on tactical maneuvers during live mission, and there could be any Citadel species could be on the team, and this necessitates a level of preparedness that other Alliance forces are not trained in. As such, our first task was to receive training under medical doctors, in order to learn the anatomy, physiology, and basic field medicine for humans, and the three main Citadel races.

My personal experience with alien races was limited. There simply wasn’t much extraterrestrial representation within the Alliance—our xenophobia probably had something to do with it. Gruesome as it sounds, up until this training, the only aliens I felt expert on was batarians, because I had seen enough green blood and guts to know, they have two hearts that complemented their four eyes.

Humans were obviously the first course, since it would be the simplest for us to understand, and all of us had some level of combat-medic skills. We relearned how to treat shock, bleeding, nutrient depravation, and conduct minor surgeries, etc. but more importantly, how to save our lives if we were captured and injured, since it is not uncommon for N7’s to be sent in alone or with very small teams. Most interestingly though, we learned classified interrogation techniques, that can be implemented should we need to obtain information through non-conventional methods.

Next we learned about Asari, since they have very similar-to-human physiology, and are the most perplexing, at least in my opinion, given their biotic abilities. My limited exposure with asari up to this point was with Zephyra, and I learned a lot about her species in the time we spent together. They are very anatomically similar to humans, the major exception was that there are no male or female asari, they’re all the same, but since they can all carry children, humans view them as female and the translator aurals provide us with female pronouns. We reviewed how they’re the oldest civilization in the galaxy, their homeworld being Thessia, all of their territories possessed high concentrations of EEZO, which is the lifeblood of asari homeostasis. An asari can live for over 1000 years, and their maturity levels are broken up into 300 year increments, this is a result of high cellular regeneration and psychological maturity. Another unique trait to the asari is that they all possess biotic ability, and can telepathically communicate neurochemical information through a process called ‘melding’. Treatment of asari is standard to treatment of humans, though being mindful of their telepathy puts us at a disadvantage when interrogation is necessary.

After that, we learned about Salarians. They’re a short-lived bunch of amphibians out of the Annos Basin on planet Sur’Kesh. Among Citadel races, the salarians rapidly produce innovation and technology on a scale unmatched by most other species. The salarians have fragile skin that is weaker than humans, and therefore they must always reinforce their survivability with tech armor—though, most do not wear heavy armor due to the pressure it puts on their physiology. For this, they have adapted their technology to provide additional synthetic protection in terms of kinetic reinforcement. Salarians have extremely short life spans, most dying before 40 years of age, but they compensate for that with high metabolic respiration which assists in their higher cognitive functions. Salarian biology is similar to other amphibian-life from earth, and so their treatment was also similar.

Finally, we came to Turians, and that section retained our attention fairly well—tension still lingered over the First Contact War, despite it happening over 20 years ago. Racism is a disease that dies hard, I supposed. We learned about their unique diet being dextro-based, and how their physiology has integrated metals to create an exoskeleton that protects them naturally against radiation. They are similar to earth’s avian species in their physiology however they are not ‘bird-like’ at all. The turian male and female differ with respect to a crest of horns, which females lack. The typical turian life-span is typical to a human’s. They are capable of incredible strength, and moving at rapid speeds, as a result of their height and slender frame. Treatment of turian casualties can be provided standard medi-gel, however if more substantial treatments are necessary, turian-specific tools are required as a result of their unique physiology.

After the training course on physiology, we were given the opportunity to practice our life-saving skills in a VI simulator. It was a no-brainer, if you paid attention, you passed the test and so each of us received passing scores, and we moved on to the next phase: culture, treaties, and law & order.

There’s nothing like a month of learning interspecies legalese to make you feel like your brain underwent a lobotomy. Nonetheless, we survived it and were able to pass the proficiency test to ensure that as Alliance representatives, we wouldn’t go around starting wars out of ignorance. If you’re wondering why I brushed over all that, well, it’s because I barely even remember sitting through it, much less the content of it—for example, the details behind the 2018 Treaty of Bifex between the turians and batarians, regarding a turf war over resource mining of a moon deep within the Hades Gamma system, was of little importance, unless it applied to a mission directly—therefore the mantra was when in doubt, err to the side of caution or ask somebody who knows.

When the moment that our years of training and months of readiness had prepared us for finally arrived, I felt fully confident but somewhat nervous, since there were only a handful of N7s in the Alliance. Before qualifying for the actual mission, we first had to successfully complete two tactical scenarios in the VI arena. Ultimately, those who completed the simulated battles would then be selected to participate on an actual mission with another N7 operative on a top secret objective.

The first exercise was a test of individual tactical ability, fighting through multiple teams of attackers, mostly vorcha and batarian—who are my personal favorite, since I had a lot of experience with them in real combat—my goal was to hack the enemy’s intelligence port and return back to the evacuation point, for which I only struggled with at the decryption point and had to reprogram my omni-tool’s hacking procedure, and fight off another wave while I reattempted it. I was surprised that two candidates were disqualified during that simulation, having been overrun by enemy forces, but not everyone who comes through ICT is engaged in combat as heavily as the 103rd.

The final simulation was a teamwork course, with the objective of fighting off waves of mostly turian and asari mercenaries, in order to capture their flag. Since there were only three of us left to form a team, we strategized the best we could. It was me a vanguard, and two infiltrators, Lieutenant Riley and Cdr. Manse, which luckily meant that our skill sets would be a good match for the types of attacks common to those species’ mercenary tactics. We were all in agreement that combos were going to be necessary in order to maximize the impact of our attacks, and we determined that keeping close together would force the enemy to funnel into our attacks, thus allowing us to clear a path to the target.

So that was how we started, but half-way to our target, reinforcements came in from the rear, and with that, Manse separated from our team to draw attention to the flank, which allowed me and Riley to continue pushing forward. He launched grenades into the center mass of their formation, only for the explosions to be dampened by the turians. He was beginning to get overwhelmed, and was making amateur mistakes such as failing to disable their shields before firing on them.

I called for him to regroup on us, and when he made a run for it, an asari caught him in a singularity. Riley covered me, while I came out from under cover in an attempt to biotically pull him to safety, but the threat was coming from all angles at this point. My barriers were being rapidly depleted by absorbing the bullets directed at me, but I focused my biotics on Manse in order to free him from the biotic hold.

With Manse freed, I launched my own singularity into the mass of the reinforcements to the rear, while he picked himself up and engaged his shielding. I noticed on my HUD that his health was rapidly decreasing—he must have sustained a massive injury, albeit simulated. I had seen this happen with the two who were disqualified in the first round, and knew that he wouldn’t last long before he ran out of medi-gels and his health bottomed out. While he was in the game though, I decided to use him for what it’s worth, and force a charge through the enemy to the front and deal with the ones to the rear later. I hurled a nova through the enemy at the right, and paved a path for Riley and Manse to push forward, the target was only 50 meters ahead, but it was on top of a heavily defended platform. An asari with her sights on me was barraging my barrier with warp ammo, while the turians were shocking our kinetic shields with overloads—I wasn’t sure any of us were going to complete this course at that point.

Riley and Manse were setting up their next combo from behind cover while I continued forward, taking the brunt of the attack, all of my energy focused into my barriers, while I relied on my high-explosive modded shotgun to do the fighting for me. From my rear, Manse shouted “Get out of the way Shepard, I’m done for, and I’m taking as many of them with me as I can take!”

I glanced up on my HUD, which revealed his health stats flashing red—he was almost dead. I pushed my back up against the wall at the base of the platform, and watched him race up the stairs to my right, throwing grenades, firing his assault rifle, and unleashing every tech ability at his disposal. I have the greatest admiration of a serviceman who sacrifices himself for the rest of the team after taking a fatal wound, even if it was in a simulated environment, not everyone has that kind of courage.

With Manse down, and the path ahead paved for me and Riley, we followed after while the reinforcements surrounded us. We raced toward our goal 20m, away with bullets flying all around us, biotic attacks threatening to cripple us, 10m, then 5m, all while they virtually destroyed our defenses and forced us to either stop and fight or press forward and hope for the best. We arrived at the flag and activated our omni-tools to scan the target while the reinforcements gathered strength below us. After the data was scanned and the simulation continued, I realized that something was wrong. I rolled to cover behind a pillar and reviewed the data on my omni-tool, ‘ _Objective updated: Survive.’_

“What the fuck is this!?” Riley growled through the comms, across from me from behind a stack of crates.

“Survival mode.” I answered, activating a medi-gel before poking my head out from cover to eliminate the targets that had emerged on the platform.

“So much for capture the flag…” She decried, and swapped weapons to use her sniper rifle.

If we were going to survive, then our position on this platform was the most defensible in the arena, from a tactical standpoint. I detonated biotic combos one after the other, and while they recharged, I tore through them with my shotgun, only taking cover as needed, while Riley focused on sniping off enemies before they got within shotgun range. We fought like that, through wave after wave of unrelenting attacks, our stamina and dedication to the fight unwavering. We were in a comfortable routine for quite some time, when out of nowhere a krogan dropped in from above. Before Riley could take a shot at it, the behemoth prepared a charge on our position. I launched a warp at him, but it was deflected by his barrier, and in retaliation he launched a stasis that paralyzed me.

Riley swapped back to her assault rifle and reinforced her kinetic barrier, but she could not act quickly enough to prevent being hammered by the krogan. I watched helplessly as he pummeled into her, and carried her body against the rear wall with force that shook the entire structure of the platform. With her pinned, the krogan biotically charged its fist to melee into her weakened body, over and over, he tore away at her defenses, and I could do nothing but watch her health deplete on my heads up display.

Reinforcements had breached the platform by the time the stasis had worn off, and when I could move again, I hurled a warp at the krogan to take his focus away from my injured team mate—but to no avail. The krogan continued his onslaught until Riley’s life-signs were gone. Once I knew that she was dead, I didn’t hesitate to hit the krogan with everything I had, staring with a grenade, then a biotic combo, and to finish him off I let loose a barrage with my shotgun that sent him to oblivion. 

I returned my focus to rage at the cluster of mercs that had been firing at my back, and launched a nova that broke them up. I dived behind my pillar to use another medi-gel and reinforce my barriers. Survival of this obstacle course was damn near impossible, but somehow, through perseverance or maybe dumb luck, I made it to the time limit of 1 hour 30 minutes. This was something that only one other N7 had done in previous cycles—most get killed after being the sole-survivor. I guess they didn’t anticipate that being a sole-survivor was something that helped me earn my stripes.

Once I completed the mission, my body was trembling with adrenaline and exhaustion—there were few battles up to that point which required such a level of intensity and non-stop fighting. I returned to the briefing room where I was greeted by my peers and the course instructors who expressed congratulations on my accomplishment. Riley shook my hand and begrudgingly conceded that I was the superior Marine in that fight—though she admonished that it was bad luck the krogan targeted her instead of me.

I was the candidate who would go onto the final selection phase of N7, and as usual, the rest were invited back to attempt the course again at a later time.

**  
**


	24. N7 II

2182 – Classified Locations/Alliance Space

After a couple days of recuperation, Major Estevez arrived at the station, he was the N7 who had been tasked with observing my actions in the field and making the final recommendation. He accompanied me to the supply chief for uniform fittings, equipment, and modifications, and then we boarded his shuttle where I reviewed the mission dossier.

The objective was to intercept a ship containing Red Sand en route to Citadel territories from a turian mercenary gang called Talons. Our orders were to take them out while they were still in Alliance Space in a joint operation with the Turian Hierarchy, with instructions to salvage the ship and capture the leader if possible. _I’ve been on at least a dozen of this type of mission…it can’t be that simple._ I thought, but then realized that not all who make it to N7 come from active units such as the 103rd, and none work on joint operations with other species.   

We relay jumped over into the Horse Head Nebula to rendezvous with a turian recon team who had been tracking their movements. As we approached the turian corvette, Major Estevez asked me “Ever worked with turians before?”

“No, Sir.” I answered.

He slowly nodded his head and sucked his teeth, “Most haven’t… Watch it on this mission, and keep your prejudices to yourself if you want to make N7.”

I never really had any prejudices against turians, and even if I did, I would never be so uncouth as to express them. I decided that he must have had some terrible trainees accompany him in the past to offer that kind of warning. “Affirmative, Sir.” I said, and returned my attention to my gear while he docked the shuttle.

Upon arrival we were greeted by an officer and escorted to the briefing room, where we met the rest of the team. There were five turian marines standing around chatting, and when we entered, they snapped to attention. The turians were built for war, and they held their military customs to the highest standard.

The Major and I reported to the front of their formation, and reported for duty. Until then, I wasn’t sure that turians even allowed female soldiers, and with them lined up, I didn’t notice any subtle differences in physical appearance, until the turian at the rear of the formation stepped out and approached us, “I am honored to meet you, Major Estevez, and Lieutenant Commander Shepard. My name is Paladin Andrix Westus, and I am the commander of this infiltration team with the 71st Reconnaissance.”

Major Estevez offered a salute, and I followed his lead—aboard an Alliance vessel, a handshake would have been in order, but this was the Turian Hierarchy, and while there were many similarities there were also marked differences.

“Lieutenant Commander Shepard, I have reviewed your profile, and understand that you have quite the reputation within the Systems Alliance. Would this be a result of your biotics, or your willingness to sustain casualties to successfully complete a mission?” She prodded, brazenly attempting to uncover any weaknesses that may jeopardize her mission. 

Without hesitation to consider my words, “I just do what it takes, Paladin.” I answered.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. We keep _our_ biotic Cabals separated from the rest of our forces…they seem to leave a body count everywhere they go.” She snarled, and turned to my superior, “I’m sure you’ll keep your science project on a leash, Major. Fall In.”

“Aye-aye, Ma’am.” He stoically affirmed, despite her derogatory statement. I tried to remain stone-faced, but my eye involuntarily twitched at the humiliating insult— and of course she noticed, to which she flexed her mandibles at me in response—something I later discovered was a turian non-verbal expression of satisfaction.

We moved to the end of the formation, and she directed her attention to the team with an order to stand at ease. _Is she testing me? I know that turians are xenophobic fucks, but not any moreso than humans. That was so…unprofessional! An Alliance member would NEVER insult an attachment from the Turian Hierarchy…would we? Is this part of my training? Why would she say something like that!?_ My mind raced while half-paying attention to her briefing on for the infiltration.

It wasn’t explicit but rather implied that the Alliance was only there to prevent a political incident, and therefore nothing was expected of us except to defend ourselves and provide assistance as necessary. It occurred to me in this moment that the N7 course was more about diplomacy and survival than measures of badassery and mission strategy—we already proved we could do that in ICT 1-6.

I knew that Red Sand was primarily used by humans, obviously, since we were the ones who invented it with the discovery of EEZO’s reaction with the on iron-oxide of Mars. In recent years, its popularity among other species had piqued after discovering that nearly all non-biotics are affected by its euphoric and subtle ‘telepathic enhancements’. It made sense why the Citadel wanted to keep it out of their territory, and why turians would want the help of humans to stop their own species from transporting it into Citadel Space—if only the batarians would take a page out of the turians handbook, maybe they would have a seat on the Citadel Council as well, but that’s neither here nor there.

After the briefing, we entered the boarding torpedo while the helmsman prepared to engage on the target. This corvette was not equipped to go up against a well-armed enemy, and the Talons spacecraft was a light freighter that could possibly be carrying enough firepower to wreak some havoc. The great thing about Special Ops, was that big explosions and lots of guns aren’t necessary to get the job done, so the torpedo was a sound option. I thought it was immensely awesome since the Alliance had not utilized such weaponry since the First Contact War—the dangers outweighed the benefit in their eyes, but the Turian Hierarchy seemed to still have an appreciation for its effectiveness.   

Crammed tightly inside the ballistic transport, the Paladin activated her omni-tool to launch the quantum thrusters. The rockets ignited with breakneck force and propelled us toward the unsuspecting mercenary ship. Within moments, we collided into the reinforced hull of the turian frigate, ripping an opening half-way through the engineering deck with the nose coming to a stop edging on the mass effect fields of the engine.

The alarms immediately sounded and we popped open the hatch to exit the craft. From the rear, Westus commanded her troops through the passageways, killing off mercenaries without opportunity for negotiation. Manning the flanks, Estevez and I guarded the team’s movements and defended against any surprises—I preferred to be in front, maybe I was used to leading rather than following, but for this mission they recognized me as little more than a trainee.

Over the ship’s intercom, a desperate growl echoed through the passageways, “Raaghhh! The Hierarchy is not taking MY ship!!! No…I’m going to capture each and every of you, and sell you to the Salarian body snatchers…”

The cracking burst of assault rifles tearing through shields and armor roared in the compartment over the shipmaster’s psychological assault, “They will infect you with plagues…just to watch you suffer. Then abandon you on an isolated planet, to live the rest of your days a mutant, with faint recollection of the life you once had.”

“Will this idiot ever shut up?” Westus snarled across the comms.  

“You will have visions of the Talons who delivered you to your fate, but it will be indistinguishable from reality…the psychotic buzzing in your ears will replace any coherent thoughts. Your screams will be the only comfort you receive.” The enemy longwindedly threatened.

As we moved up to the next deck, we were met with a barrage of turret fire, that required restructuring our movements in order to seize them with tech attacks. Turians were exceptional techs, so while Estevez and I aided the in laying down cover, their flanking tactics were spot on in maneuvering around them to overload their circuits.

We pushed forward, clearing out the Talons with haste and precision. Upon approaching the bridge, where our final objective to incapacitate the captain and take control over the cargo, from overhead a red mist began funneling out of the ventilation system.

“GAS!” I shouted, and immediately activated my suit’s chemical seals. ‘ _Are these turians fucking insane?!’_ I thought, scanning the situation and watching the team scramble to protect themselves from the unknown agent.

“Red Sand… Those damn mercs aerosolized their Red Sand.” Westus hissed, as she engaged her omni-tool to initialize hazmat protocols. “Everyone engage your ancillary self-contained breathing ports. On the double! This is going to clog our filters worse than spores on a Level 3 atmosphere.”

What was left of the Talons had fallen back to the bridge to regroup, and Westus pulled up her omni-tool to send a mission update to the awaiting corvette, and then rallied us around to give commands, “Alright, we have a few minutes at the most, if your filters fail, fall back for someone else to take your place.” She said, as she reached over her shoulder to equip a Haliat grenade launcher, “Let’s make this count! Bring out the heavy weapons, salvaging the ship is secondary. We do not retreat, fight to the last man standing…and if you’re the last man, blow out the bridge! Understood?!”

“Yes Ma’am” we replied in unison.

My helmet’s HUD was showing that my suit’s filters effectiveness had already been reduced to 71%—a few minutes was going to be a stretch. If these mercs were amassing a last stand on the bridge, there was a good chance we were going to sustain casualties.

I had been here before…hazmat operations were becoming a real pain in my ass, but if there was one thing I learned from my last mission with chemical and biological agents, it was that you can never have enough omni-gel.

There has never been a time that I haven’t been thankful to be a biotic on the battlefield, but in this particular instance, I was the only member of the team who was immune to the toxic effects of the agent that the enemy was hoping to sabotage us with. While my confidence in the team’s ability to accomplish the mission didn’t waver, I began preparing myself to be that last man standing just in case the worst case scenario came to be reality.

A pair of turian marines used plasma torches to breech the hatch to the bridge, while the rest of us anxiously watched our suit’s filtration system being eroded, reapplying omni-gel as needed. Among the turians, there was chatter about running out of omni-gel before they breached the door, to which Westus threatened to kill them before the mercs if they didn’t stop their whining. While her leadership style wasn’t kosher to human-standards, she certainly commanded respect with an iron fist, and her team appreciated it.

When the metal plate broke away from the hatch, it was followed by a plume of the red vapor that was sucked into the bridge preceding two flash grenades meant disorient the mercs on the other side. Gunfire was immediately unleashed upon our team, and they returned our attack with rocket propelled grenades of their own. While none made a direct strike, they did severely damage the hull and broke the chemical seals on the frontline.  

As the two on the frontline fell back, the last three took their place, Westus among them. Estevez and I were taking point behind them in order to follow up should they be taken out as well. One of the turian marines launched an incendiary grenade into the center of the bridge, the goal was to fill the chamber with smoke in order to gain entry.

The incapacitated team members were beginning to show the effects of the Red Sand and their actions had become erratic for seasoned elites—they were going to become liabilities if they didn’t find their bearings. My filtration had degraded down to 13%, and I wasn’t even engaging in the firefight. While I did not have access to the rest of the team’s status, I assumed that their situation was just as bad or worse.

The marine trio exchanged fire with the mercs for only a matter of moments before Westus growled, “My suit is compromised.” Her statement was followed by the other three admitting the same, but they continued fighting, the sound of a grenade explosion would follow the obvious overheating of an assault rifle. It wasn’t until one of them who fell under the influence of Red Sand insolently walked out from behind his cover and was immediately gunned down, that they began falling back through the opening.

Major Estevez looked to me and nodded, “We’re up. Let’s show them what humans are made of!”

I had been focusing a singularity since the Red Sand became a threat. Just as the turians fell back, we passed them through the doorway to not allow a moment for any remaining mercs to come out for an attack.

Biotic energy spiraled and crackled around me, I was confident that my kinetic barriers being at maximum capacity would absorb any impact if the mercs got lucky enough to hit me while my biotic barriers were down. I funneled every bit of energy I had into the singularity, and it ripped at the seals on my gloves as it launched from my arms.  My HUD showed that the Red Sand was already invading my suit, but it was of little concern to me, because I pulled my shotgun with high-explosives modded to it and eviscerated the mercs trapped in the gravitational pull of my biotics.

There was incoherent comm chatter from the disabled turian marines, and I was beginning to grow weary that they would begin engaging in friendly fire. Major Estevez’ attacks were less accurate than they should have been, this indicated to me that he was also beginning to feel the effects of Red Sand but he had not said anything yet—he knew that failure on this mission was not an option. When he tossed a grenade into my dissipating singularity, and when it exploded, limbs were torn from the bodies and blue-blood sprayed across my visor.

I reached up to wipe away the sticky fluid, and through the smear, I saw a gargantuan turian raising to his feet out of the commotion.

“How insulting…they sent _humans_ to bring me in.” Spoke the taunting voice from the intercom.

I began preparing another biotic attack from within my chest as I pointed my shotgun center-mass on the turian “You must be the leader. Give up. We’ve killed your crew, and we’re going to put an end to this. You will leave either dead or alive, it’s your choice.” 

“Ha! Ha ha! No, human. I think I will enjoy tearing you asunder, just as you have done to my comrades.” The turian said, as blue wisps danced around his fists.

‘ _Just my luck…a fucking turian biotic. No wonder he released Red Sand on his own ship. Well, this should be interesting.’_ I considered, just before funneling some of my biotics into my barrier and taking cover.

He unleashed a biotic nova that upheaved the control station I was ducked behind, and just as I rolled out from cover, I hurled a throw into his chest that propelled him into the helm and completely dislodged the control wheel, which shot sparks into his suit that briefly disabled his kinetic barriers.

With him exposed, I fired two shots from my shotgun before it overheated into his armor, causing considerable damage but he was not backing down. He threw a warp into me that knocked me off my feet and allowed him to take cover and mend his wounds with some medi-gel.

As I stood, I noticed that Estevez wasn’t laying down any cover fire, and I looked over my 6 to see that he was sitting with his back against a console while he telepathically spun his service pistol above his palm—I knew then what I had to do.

I looked to the viewport forward of the helm, and noticed that the barrage of heavy weapons had damaged the layers of protection between this ship and the vacuum of space. I didn’t take a moment to think any longer, and I pulled every reserve of energy into my arms.

In one fell motion I launched a warp directly into the weakened glass. This got the recovered-turian’s attention, and he stood with biotically reinforced barriers with his assault rifle pointed directly at me.

It all happened in slow motion, because as soon as I saw the flash of the muzzle, I felt the biotic throw release from my hand toward the dissipating warp. With numbing force, _*thud-du-dum*_ three bullets impacted into my chest…only two were absorbed by the shield, and I was carried back by force of the bullet that tore through my shoulder, and tripped over the lifeless body of a turian marine.

Just as I landed against the floor, I heard the roar of the viewport imploding under the vacuum. I pushed myself up, encapsulated myself in a biotic bubble, and grabbed Major Estevez by the arm, before leaping back into the compartment where we had left the turian marines.

The ship had emergency kinetic barriers to prevent decompression from effecting separate compartments, so as soon as we crossed the threshold, I was able to drop my biotic bubble. My shoulder was burning with hot blood running down to pool into my glove, but I had to confirm that we had eliminated the target.

I peered inside the bridge from the edge of the hatch, and revealed that all of the bodies, including that of the turian biotic, had been sucked into the great void. 

When we returned to the turian corvette, I asked that they return us back to the Pinnacle Station for medical evaluation and to allow them an opportunity to detox from the Red Sand withdrawal. 

After Major Estevez had recovered sufficiently, he submitted his mission report, along with his recommendation. Within 36 hours, I was awarded the N7 designation with all of the rights and responsibilties that come with it—to my surprise, several weeks later, I received an award from the Turian Hierarchy, a Joint Service Commendation Medal, with a note from Paladin Westus herself congratulating me on my N7 achievement, and for softening her stance on having biotics in her combat team.

**  
**


	25. Normandy

2183 – Arcturus System/Arcturus Station/SSV Normandy

There are only around 180 N7s in Systems Alliance—that is all branches included—out of a total of 140 million personnel. An N7 is most elite operative in Alliance military, and as such are often stationed in units where special operations are common place, diplomatic missions for high-profile situations, cover operations where deniability is necessitated, and so on. It is for this reason N7’s are either clustered together in units such as the 103rd, or they work on small teams, if not alone, to accomplish their missions. Of the 140 million personnel, only 12,500 carried an N 1-6 beside their rank, so the prestige of even having an N-class was distinguishing in and of itself. This translates to 0.01% of N’s are N7….and 0.00008% of Systems Alliance military have an N-class.  

In dress blues, all of a person’s military achievements are put on display, but in duty uniforms and armor no one is meant to stand out—except for an N7. The Alliance allows only N7’s to wear customized uniforms and apparel with the red and black stripe or ‘N7’ logo emblazoned upon them. Such a discernment is to let anyone who should see this warrior know that they are in the presence of an anomaly of battlefield performance, strategically calculated, with unparalleled strength.

These are some of the descriptors and platitudes that were expressed from Commandant of Systems Alliance Navy—I’m pretty sure that it was the same letter sent to all N7’s, they just filled in the blanks for my name and rank.

So, that was it, I had attained my goal of becoming an N7. A mission that I set out on after Akuze, and without much thought for what came after it. Being an N7, accomplishing missions, moving up the chain of command, needs of the Alliance if you will, was as far as I had planned ahead on that particular aspect of my career. Don’t get me wrong, I was gung-ho and feeling sharp as a knife with N7 on my chest—especially since the decal and any special items were an acquisition that came directly from the academy at Villa Militar.

I guess the point I’m making is that this marked another major transition period in my life. I didn’t know what awaited me with this new classing, and I didn’t have to make up my mind immediately either—the Alliance was going to do that for me, for at least another year when it came time to renew my contract.

I returned to the SSV Tokyo with no small amount of admiration from the ship’s crew. There were now two N7’s aboard the ship—which as I mentioned, is not an entirely uncommon occurrence in the 103rd. Captain Grovenski did not wait for me to settle in before assigning me to the next ground mission. It was a standard hostage situation, where infiltration and tactics were paramount to mission success. Stealth had never been my strong suit, but over the years, I had learned many techniques with my biotics that assisted where my sneak skills were insufficient—as you can imagine, stasis became my life saver in many situations. 

One of the most obvious changes of being N7 on the battlefield was that subordinates did not seem to question my judgment—even if I was clearly storming into a situation where a delicate hand was necessary, my team followed my lead without hesitation. I had never really had a problem instilling confidence in my leadership, usually after a few missions they fell in line. This was different, especially with such brief contact with my troops. I suppose it could have been that my tactical finesse had developed over the years, but I’m still not convinced that people weren’t simply deferring to my classification rather than my skills.

I had been aboard the Tokyo for about three months when Fifth Fleet sent out their orders on the permanent assignment for the position I was filling. To my surprise, they decided upon another candidate, and I was ordered back to Fifth Fleet HQ at Arcturus Station to receive my next instructions and duty station. While I was somewhat disappointed, I was more anxious about the Alliance taking me out of the 103rd and moving me to a new command that I wasn’t familiar with—like I said, a lot of changes happened in the year after getting my N7.

The Tokyo provided me with transportation to Arcturus, where after reporting for duty at HQ, I was greeted by Captain David Anderson.

“Commander Shepard. Welcome back to Arcturus.” He said, reaching out to shake my hand.

I returned the gesture and firmly grasped the man’s hand “Glad to be back, Sir.”

He released my hand and began walking down the passageway behind a set of offices that led to an opening into a large conference room. “Follow me. We knew about your arrival and wanted to meet with you in person.” He explained as he walked briskly toward our destination.

I wasn’t sure why the brass wanted to meet with me. In fact, last I heard Anderson was working with the Citadel, so I automatically assumed the worst and began running over my last missions, considering whether or not I had caused an interspecies situation, and why I was about to get the biggest ass chewing conceivable. “Understood, Sir.”     

He didn’t respond, he just continued moving forward, while my mind raced, contemplating the all possible scenarios.

Standing beside the oval-shaped table in the center of the room were Admiral Hackett, a pensive-looking Alliance diplomat, and the Navy Commandant, and a second Navy Captain that I was unfamiliar with—almost the same brass that were present for my Star of Terra ceremony. Then I began to consider the opposite situation, ‘ _Am I being decorated for something?’_

Admiral Hackett walked over to greet me with a warm smile and a handshake “Shepard, welcome aboard. Congratulations on your N7. I had faith that you would pull it off, and on your first attempt, no less.”

“Thank you for your confidence, Sir.” I replied, and looked over his shoulder with a questioning glance.

He sensed my trepidation and got straight to the point, “I guess you’re wondering why we’re all here, since you know we have other jobs to do.”

I stiffened my back and nodded once, “Now that you mention it. Yes, Sir. It must be something big to draw out this much brass.”

The diplomat who had been watching me with suspicious contempt spoke up at my response, “Commander Shepard, I am Donnel Udina, Citadel Ambassador to humanity. Your assumption is correct. We have requested your presence here to inform you of your selection to be evaluated for Citadel Special Tactics and Reconnaissance.”

My eyebrow arched, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I was hearing him accurately. Hackett continued where Udina left off, “That’s right Shepard. You were selected to be evaluated for the Spectres. We reviewed several for the position, but you stood out above the rest. We found you to be the embodiment of human exceptionalism, so we moved forward to place you into the Citadel Council’s selection pool, where you made the cut.”

“I see. I…I don’t know what to say, Sir. This is unexpected.” I sighed, overwhelmed at the information being presented to me.    

 Anderson spoke up from beside me, “We thought this would be a lot to take in. That is why we wanted to meet with you personally, to answer any questions you may have and provide you with as much information as possible.”

“Thank you, Sir’s.” I offered, easing my rigid posture some, “So, does this mean I am reporting to the Citadel?”

The Captain standing beside the Commandant opened his omni-tool and projected an image on the wall behind him, and the Commandant spoke up, “No Commander. You are hereby assigned to the position of Executive Officer to the Alliance Navy’s newest and most high-tech stealth ship. Your orders are classified and a copy will be made available to you at your private terminal.”

The image showed a sleek but high-profile frigate, and the Captain explained “The SSV Normandy SR-1 was a joint human-turian operation. We poured the best of our technology into this ship, and the turians gave us their best capabilities in return. You’ll find its layout is unlike human ships, but we expect the Normandy will be used on joint operations frequently enough that it should be a benefit rather than a hindrance.”

“Thank you Captain Dillard. The Normandy’s Commanding Officer is Captain Anderson. We believe that your duties as an N7 and as a Spectre candidate will translate seamlessly for the assignments the Normandy will be called upon. Not only that, but your service record deserves commendations, and the Normandy will be an exceptional duty assignment.” The Commandant offered, while the others watched for my reactions.

“Understood Sir. I am looking forward to the opportunity you have presented me with.” I admitted, holding back the thoughts and emotions that were racing through my mind. I wasn’t prepared for any of this, only three months ago I received my N7, and now I was looking at being considered for the Spectres.

I didn’t know much about the Spectre Corps, only that they were covert operatives with complete immunity from repercussions in the course of their duties. Honestly, until this moment, the Spectres hadn’t even been on my radar as a direction that my career could take—there was never any talk about human Spectres, and so there was no point in holding our breath in the Marines for a pipe dream like that.

I guessed pushing for a human Spectre was a topic of conversation in the higher echelons of Alliance politics, as evidenced by the Citadel Council even approving my candidacy—this suspicion was confirmed when the Ambassador added his last two cents. “Commander, your movements are being closely observed on a galactic stage from this moment on. Try to use more couth with your observations of _brass_ in the future, and show the proper courtesies. Your actions will reflect on humanity as a whole, and we may not have another shot at getting a Spectre for decades if you mess this up.” Udina spat.

I hate politicians—especially Donnel Udina, but this was the moment I realized that I was the star in another puppet show, with all of the bells and whistles that came with the Star of Terra, but on a grander scale. For the record, I understand that my perception of this may be a bit skewed—I acknowledge that I had beaten some incredible odds in the course of my arrival to this moment—however, I was _also_ being used as a political tool…I suppose it comes with the territory, but I that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“The Commander is a pillar of excellence, Ambassador. Shepard will achieve any task she is given, she’s proven herself over and over again.” Anderson injected, throwing his support behind me, presumably observing the twitch in my eye and knowing the words that followed would not be received well by the Ambassador.

He looked me up and down then nodded to Anderson, “She’s yours now, Captain. See to it that you’re right about this, or we all may regret it.”  He pulled up his omni-tool and input some commands “I’m sure you all can handle any questions the Commander may have. I must take my leave now and return to the Citadel. I have a lot of business to attend to in preparation of your selection. Don’t let us down, Commander.”

With Udina’s departure, the Commandant and Captain Dillard followed behind. Hackett stayed only long enough to provide me encouragement for my next assignment and then he was on his way.

Captain Anderson led me to the docking bay where the Normandy was located. We walked up the docking ramp and into the decontamination chamber, where the decon rays beamed across our skin, _Decontamination in Progress,_ said the synthetic voice of the ship’s computer. When the hatch to the interior of the ship opened, _Logged. The Commanding Officer is Aboard._ The computer spoke once more.

“Here she is Commander. She hasn’t even been on her shakedown run, and you’re her first XO.” Anderson beamed, the pride of his new ship evident upon his face.

The ship was certainly laid out different than any frigate I had been on. Most notably was the CIC at the rear of the bridge, which was the most obvious of the turian influence. The deck was not fully manned, presumably because most of the ship’s crew was aboard the Arcturus for their rotation on leave. All of the computers and holographic interfaces were state of the art—unlike most of the Alliance ships I had served aboard up to now, which were making due with antiquated equipment, and did not have any of this level of sophistication. _‘The Alliance must have been flexing their spending muscle to put on a show for the Turian Hierarchy’_ I decided.

“It’s amazing, Captain. How did the Alliance pull this off?” I asked, testing the waters with how open he was willing to be with me.

“It wasn’t easy. Humanity’s brightest worked on this ship, and nothing but the best have been assigned to her crew.” He answered, pushing forward to show me through the ship.

The Normandy was an incredible ship, especially the mass effect core and her stealth drive. I got the impression from Captain Anderson that there was some dissention among the crew for the sharing of this technology with the turians, but it didn’t seem to faze him any, he must have known something the rest of us didn’t.

Afterward, he showed me to my quarters, and sent for a serviceman to bring my gear aboard the ship, while I continued acquainting myself. Before he departed, he informed that we depart for our shakedown run at 1200 hours tomorrow, and gave me instructions to acquaint myself with the ship’s specifications, and crew manifest, and shakedown objectives in the meantime. It was only 1430 hours Galactic Standard Time, so that gave me plenty of opportunity to familiarize myself with my new duties.

The next day I would wake up ready to fulfill my new role, and whatever came with it. I had no way of predicting how everything about my life would take a change in the days and weeks that followed, but in that moment, I was prepared to pour every ounce of my being into whatever life threw at me, if nothing more than for thrill and excitement of this new kickass adventure.

 

 


End file.
